


Death's Embrace

by Fnorpan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst, Elvhen Gods, Elvhen Pantheon, Evanuris, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Magic, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-08-20 11:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8247061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fnorpan/pseuds/Fnorpan
Summary: Fen'Harel is not the only one with eyes for the Inquisitor. The moment the wolf let's go of its pray another moves in to steal the kill. But will he get past the walls of an already broken heart?--Credits for any tevene goes to katiebour at deviantart and the dragonage wikia.Credits for any elvish goes to FenXshiral and whom ever is responsible for the LingoJam elven DAI translator. I'm sorry if I abuse the language.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> In the wake of my previous and first long ongoing story about my Inquisitor I got a question about whether or not I had thoughts about writing about Falon'Din. I found the topic intriguing and dove head first into the world of DAI again, researching the mythology to see if I could spin a new version of the universe around another story with another Inquisitor of mine, Enanela Lavellan. (Introduction picture can be found at http://fnorpan.deviantart.com/art/Enanela-Lavellan-572918567)
> 
> This is but the introduction to the story, where you can get a sense of the character and get some clues as to what transpired during the actual game-content of DAI. I don't know how long or short this story will be, that remains to be seen. It will go where ever it will take me for now. I can't say how often this will be updated but I will try to dish out at least a chapter each month. It all depends on how much my work and kiddo takes out of me.
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling on my part.
> 
> Enjoy!

The destructive pain wreaking havoc in Enanela’s slight, elven body and bleeding soul was as indescribable as it was unbearable. The blinding agony shot straight through every raw nerve-end she had, burning as it went and eating away at the last piece of sanity she had left in her battered body. She wanted to scream, to cry and wail until her entire being gave in to unconsciousness from sheer exhaustion. But when she opened her mouth it felt as dry as a day in the dessert, nothing came out of her constricting throat no matter how much she wanted it and all she was left with was watching in heartrending horror as the love of her life left her there in a broken heap by the foot of a closing Eluvian.

Not only did he betray everything they had built, breaking her heart with his empty words of love and regret. He also stole everything from her. Her heart, her innocence and even the death she would have welcomed as a friend in this moment. Enanela cursed Solas - or more appropriately Fen’Harel - through the waves of agony crashing mercilessly over her in her personal sea of misery. He certainly lived up to his name, both of them, and she found herself wishing she had never laid eyes on him. At the very least she wished she had had the sense to at the very least entertain Cullen and Varric’s warnings about the elven apostate. Even if she knew Cullen’s suspicions stemmed from jealousy, Varric was her friend through and through and right now she wished to the high heavens she had listened.

Suddenly she was jerked back to reality. Someone was by her side, shaking her perhaps? And that someone was most definitely talking to her, trying to gain her attension but her entire focus was virtually glued to the now closed Eluvian while she clasped the stump remaining of her left arm. Slowly she managed to turn her chocked mind towards her friends and vaguely she recognized the worried voices of Varric, Dorian and Blackwall who seemed to be squabbling like usual.

“We got to go back to the Palace. The divine will know…” Blackwall’s rich voice rang full of worry but he was cut off by a snarky Tevinter accent.

"Yes! By all means. Let's just serve her and the Inquisition to the nobles on a silver platter shall we?!”

“We can’t just leave her like this! Varric?”

“Sorry, I’m with Sparkler on this one. The nobles would have a field day with this.”

“So what do we do then? None of us have any potions and Solas was the only one with healing magic. The blighted prick.” Blackwall more or less spat the last words and in response Enanela could feel her own anger rising. The betrayal she felt sparking anew, ripping open the still raw wound even more and with that as a crutch she managed to refocus her attension to her friends.

“It’s… ok… I'm ok.” she ground out through clenched teeth. She shut her eyes tight as she fought the urge to shriek from the agony that came with moving her body even an inch. She didn’t have time to wallow, she needed to get back to Halamshiral and end the inane debate with those pompous dogs so she could get back to hunting... She flinched away from the thoughts of what would come after she was done in Halamshiral. She wasn’t ready to face that yet and she really couldn't afford to fall apart any more than she already had if she was to survive in a political battle between two squabbling lords.  

Shoving her fear and sorrow to the deepest recesses of her soul she struggled to get to her feet. A strong, plate-armored arm caught her swaying form and Blackwall offered her a shoulder to lean on while they began the long walk back through the myriad of Eluvians that would eventually lead them to Halamshiral. And the shit-storm that probably awaited them there.


	2. Mythal's Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does one do when faced with hunting the only person in the world one never wants to see again?

It had been weeks since she left Skyhold without so much as a word to the people she left behind. She knew she should probably feel bad for leaving her friends in the dark but she just couldn’t keep the façade up any longer and she if she heard another well-meant question about how she was holding up she thought she just might implode. Everyone's daily poking and prodding was as maddening as the constant reminders of what she had lost and the weight of the worlds impending doom hanging like a mantel of stone on her shoulders was not helping the situation in the least.

Every day she woke up drenched in sweat, shivering and screaming from terrible nightmares. Every night since the defeat of Corypheus she relived Solas betrayal, all possible future outcomes - each more horrible than the next - and every bit of pain that came with it. As icing on the cake she still felt the searing pain in her left arm, as if it was still attached to her body, and it ached as much as it had during Halamshiral.

Every day she had to force eyes open and force herself upright. It took almost all her willpower to force herself to swing her legs over the side of the bed and will herself to get up. Animating her body just enough to look at least half-way alive she went through a painstaking routine of washing up, getting dressed and eating before delving headlong into the mountains of paperwork and research that came with trying to find the one person in Thedas she never actually wanted to face again.

Every day was seemingly a never ending repeat of the former. An eternal loop of her stuck in her own personal hell and after a year she just couldn’t force herself to continue any longer.

Enanela remembered waking up in the middle of a particularly nasty nightmare of the fade crashing into the mortal realm - much like what she had lived through in Redcliff during her mission to recruit the mages into the Inquisition. It took a long while to gain control enough to stop shaking and when she finally did, her mind was made up. She washed herself off in her water basin, got dressed and snuck her weary behind out to the stables. There she dodged the stable boys and quietly weaseled her way to her beloved mount.

Most people thought her mad for loving the grotesque creature but since the day the Bog Unicorn – as the soldiers called her – had arrived, she formed a rare, strong bond with it. The undead horse had an iron will, a fierce loyalty and a fiery temper which quickly earned her the nickname Ise, meaning fire. There wasn’t another mount in the entire Thedas Enanela would rather trust her life to and in return for her trust the undead horse carried and followed her everywhere it was allowed.

A rasping huff sounded from the creature as Enanela hastily threw on a halter and a pad – Ise was much too narrow over her withers to ride comfortably without padding of some sort but despite that Enanela preferred riding with as little equipment as possible – and before the night fully gave away to morning, the duo cantered quickly out of the hold towards things unknown.

With no particular goal in mind Enanela and gladly left the steering to Ise who took her on safe but unseen paths through the treacherous mountain terrain. It wasn’t until days later, when the elf noticed that her beloved mount had taken her all the way across the Frostbacks and into the deepest parts of the Emerald Graves that a destination occurred to her. Not knowing why and not really caring she gently nudged Ise towards the Arbor Wilds and the undead creature complied with an almost gurgling snort.

Enanela sighed as she returned from her pondering. Once again she focused on her surroundings and resumed her wandering of Mythals now abandoned sanctum. Ise roamed free inside the temple grounds and the nights they spent together in a make-shift camp just inside the doors across the bridge where she first witnessed Corypheus’ macabre death and rebirth that indeed marked him as a true horror of a darkspawn.

The magic of the temple seemed to have died with the departure of the last sentinels. Or maybe it died when Enanela absorbed the will of the well of sorrows against the wishes of her friends and… She snorted in annoyance as she was reminded of the angry spouts of Solas when she argued with Morrigan about the well. His reluctance to let anyone use the well made a lot more sense now that she knew who Solas was. He must have known more about the prize to pay for the gift of knowledge offered by the well, than he could have let on at that point. And to see Enanela willingly put herself in what he deemed to be harm’s way must have been torture for him.

NO! Enanela withdrew her previous thoughts of wistful thinking with a vicious sneer. Who was she trying to kid? That heap of dung probably just didn’t want the well to give away his identity before he could finish using her to the extent he needed.

Dropping down on one of the lower steps leading down to the path before the well of sorrows and its surrounding Eluvians, she moaned in misery. She had been up and down this temple a million times by now. She knew every nook and cranny, every hidden space and shortcut. She had examined every statue, every Eluvian and mosaic and every piece of art of any kind that she had come across and still she was none the wiser as to why her instincts had brought her here. The Eluvians where all dead, broken and useless and no matter how hard she tried they stayed that way. And she couldn't call on the powers of the well to help her figure things out since try as she might, her inner turmoil kept her from making out anything the voices of the well tried to communicate with her. She had even tried to meditate in the very fount where the well had laid for ages beyond counting and Enanela – truth be told - was starting to give up.

What was the point in trying? She was but a shemlen now, and a remnant of her former self. Rootless, alone and cast aside like a used piece of blotter. How was she supposed to stop someone like Solas? A supposed God that by all accounts outranked even the toughest foe she had ever fought.

A vicious spark of pain drew her out of her internal rant as it crawled around the severed nerve endings of her left arm. The agony grounded her, kept her sane as well as drove her mad. If she closed her eyes she could literally feel every part of her arm as if it was still attached to her elbow. She wondered lazily where the blighted thing had ended up. If it was floating around somewhere in the depths of the fade or if it was just gone. She wondered what the energy she had been bestowed with really was, where it came from and how it was that it threatened to eat her alive had Solas not stopped it.

Why had he stopped it?

A horrifying thought hit her and caused her to almost stop breathing. Solas must not be done with her. He must still need her for something, otherwise it made no sense at all for him to save her life. Enanela sneered as she jerked to her feet. Her fighting-instinct instantly re-awakened at the thought. That pompous, loathsome jack-off would have another thing coming if he thought she’d just calmly lie down and wait for him to finish the job. No way in the void would she submit to that kind of humiliation. She would fight! With every fiber left in her body, she would fight whatever he was planning! She would find a way!

Something scared a few birds picking away at things unknown in the vegetation surrounding the now empty well of sorrows. Their cawing abruptly drew the angry rogue back to reality and Enanela warily looked around for the source of the agitation. There was something dark flashing in the corner of her eyes every time her eyes passed over the well but as soon as she tried to fix it with her silvery gaze it slipped away. Only to reappear at the next pass over. That something had her skin prickling and she didn’t hesitate to draw one of her twin dual bladed daggers made out of dragonbone.

The shadow continued to elude her as she slowly progressed towards the well, using every ounce of stealth she could muster. What really agitated her wasn’t the fact that the shadow – whatever the blighted thing was - eluded her gaze or that its energy made her skin crawl. No, what agitated her was the fact that the shadow seemed to sense her even as she made herself virtually invisible.

Reaching the steps leading up to the well she hesitated, she knew by now that the steps where there – that she just couldn’t see them – but it still unnerved her to walk up into what was perceived as thin air.

“Stop slinking around like a worm on a hook!” She demanded when she had reached the top of the stairs. All manners of stealth abandoned during her advance up the stairs. It seemed unnecessary to waste her energy on that when the thing crawling around by the well seemed to see her – or sense her - all the same.

At the sound of Enanela’s voice the shadow seemed to shrink slightly before it stilled. Enanela slowly turned her scrutinizing gaze directly onto it again and this time it didn’t slink out of her line of vision. It stayed, hovering like a black ominous cloud of smoke just to the left of the well. The energy radiating of off it made Enanela’s hairs stand on edge. It felt... wrong.

“What are you… “ the void didn’t reply, it just blurred and shivered at the sound of Enanela’s demanding tone.

Enanela kept her distance, dagger raised and ready to defend at a moment’s notice as she eyed the void with suspicion in her silvery eyes. Her blond, now long hair falling in cascades over her shoulders save for the braid covering most of her left, formerly shaved side.

“What are you doing here? What do you want?!” Enanela didn’t really expect an answer but she couldn’t stop herself from wondering out loud anyway. She noticed the void shivering and billowing at her every word, almost as if it was resonating with every syllable out of her mouth. No sound came from the void, no answer of any kind and even if Enanela wasn’t surprised, it still ticked her off. Scoffing she muttered incoherent elven curses to herself and watched as the void resonated with her every sound. It was unsettling to say the least.

She shifted her step, leaning her weight from one leg to another and watched with rising dread as the void shifted with her. Tentatively she took a small step aside, towards the stairs and stopped short as the void reciprocated. She narrowed her eyes at the unnatural thing hovering in front of her and crouched further into her defensive position. She didn’t know what the blasted thing wanted but it seemed to be hooked on her for some unknown reason and what was worse, it could possibly be trying to cut off her retreat. Flee or fight was probably the only options now and since she didn't know how to fight smoke she favored flight.

There was a long heavy moment of suspense where Enanela just observed the entity. As long as she didn’t move or speak it stayed the same. It didn’t advance but it didn’t retreat either and it still radiated that unnatural energy that had the hairs on the back of the rogues neck stand on edge.

Making up her mind she spun into action in the blink of an eye. Hurtling herself towards the stairs in a jump ending in a somersault that sent her tumbling headlong down the invisible stairs. She couldn’t sense up from down during her tumble and mainly focused on keeping her body in a fetal position while protecting her head. The second she hit the floor she rolled up into a defensive crouch shaking her head as much clear of the dizziness as she possibly could. She looked wildly around, searching for the entity she could still feel lingering. The void was nowhere to be seen even though she could feel its energy crackling around her. With rising panic in her chest she felt as the void reached for her, pulling at her. The chilly tendrils of that dreadful energy was snaking around her from every side and she knew it was too late.


	3. Out of the ashes and into the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gods are fickle, sometimes unkind and having their favor isn't always all it's cracked up to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some elvhen in this chapter that at first glance wont "fit" with the emotions the words evoke. I have submitted explanations for that in the end notes so that the meaning and reactions won't get lost in translations.

Her head throbbed violently, like someone was trying to remold her skull with a hammer and the pain was slowly forcing Enanela back to consciousness. Her mouth felt as dry as a riverbed in a dessert on a hot summer’s day and it caused her to experimentally click her tongue against her palate, trying and failing to get her saliva running. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this horribly hungover. Damn Ironbull and his weird concoctions that wrecked her mind beyond recognition! Not to mention all the strange dreams his liquor seemed to be the cause of. That black void was certainly no pleasant experience.

With some effort Enanela heaved herself up into sitting position, eyes still tightly pinched closed as she rubbed both her temples with the tips of her fingers against the heavy headache.

She was never drinking again. Especially not with Iron Bull!

Surprise crept up on her as the nature of where she was actually sitting at the moment, weaseled its way into her distracted mind. The stone floor was both chilly and hard and it seemed odd that Ironbull hadn't dumped her in his bed or carried her to her own like he usually did when she passed out from drinking. The big ox had turned out to be sappier and more considerate than anyone could have ever thought, especially since Solas had abandoned her. Not that she was really complaining. His company was the easiest since he tended to avoid touching upon subjects that clawed at her feelings and threatened to shred her control.

Enanela brushed her blond tangled hair out of her face and slowly opened her bloodshot eyes. She expected to see the view of whatever room in Skyhold she was currently sprawled in, but the cold light that greeted her as she finally managed to focus her silver gaze, was not what she had initially thought.

She found that the light emanated from a single active Eluvian, standing proud beside its broken and inactive brethren in the darkness of a vast room smelling of damp earth and stale air. The area might have once been part of a temple, if the ruins of an altar in the center of the half-moon of Eluvian's was anything to go by. The fact that the ruin was elvhen in origin was a given just by the presence of the Eluvian’s alone but there was a lot of artifacts spread around to support that claim.

The active mirror’s strange silvery, water-like surface illuminated the dark, unknown space around Enanela and every memory of the last couple of weeks rushed back into the elfs head in a mere moment.

Ignoring the headache and dizziness she shot to her feet, spinning on her heal as she searched for dangers – especially that nasty void. She tried to push the memory of that sickening entity out of her mind and shuddered when she didn't succeed. Still crouching defensively she reached for her daggers with her one hand but found one dual bladed dagger missing. Vaguely she remembered dropping it before losing consciousness in reaction to the nauseating feeling of getting enveloped by the black entity. Cursing silently she drew her other dagger with some effort. She had to get out of here, creators only knew when and if that cursed, slithering thing would be back and she most certainly didn’t want to be here when it did.

Enanela stole one last look over her shoulder at the bright Eluvian - the blighted object that had been the start of this whole mess to begin with. It was obvious that something most likely wanted her to enter whatever realm lay beyond that treacherous silver façade trembling from unseen forces. But she wasn’t about to let them – whoever _they_ were – dictate her life without a fight. Enanela was beginning to loathe her ancestors and their secrets. Sneering at the mirror she turned to sneak towards the furthest wall in search of an exit.

\--

Enanela was running again, hiding was pointless since the void somehow sensed her so instead she concentrated on staying as far away as possible from the entity that she was pretty sure would haunt her dreams until the very day she died. She had lost count on how long she had been playing hide and seek with that abominable void and she was beginning to give up from hopelessness and despair. There was no way out!

The entity had reappeared when she was aimlessly sneaking around the ruins of the vast temple in search of any kind of exit, and it had been haunting her ever since. It could have been hunting her for days or only a few hours, without a source of natural light or another way to track time, Enanela had no idea. The fact remained though, that she was dead tired, scared to the brink of panic and at a loss for what to do.

Just like the Temple of Mythal and Temple of Dirthamen this ruin was overgrown by vegetation trying its best to recapture lost ground. However this ruin was littered by mainly roots, moss and undergrown vegetation. Suggesting that the temple was somehow underground. Ghoul's beard and deep mushrooms could be found in abundance along with deep stalkers and spiders but thankfully there was no sign of undead or darkspawn. Enanela also noticed the many owl depictions and tribunes to Falon'Din and gathered that this ruin must have been a place formerly dedicated to the Elvhen God of the dead.

That meant that people must have been coming and going freely on a daily basis but however Enanela tried, where ever she searched, there was no ordinary way out. Every door, every window and every crack in the walls or roof was either blocked or caved in. And now that sickly, crackling energy from the entity was creeping back into her personal space again.

She felt its invisible tendrils of horror snaking around her just out of reach and out of instinct she backed up. Slowly, step by step she backed up until she was only a few steps away from the Eluvian at her back. She tossed a panicked look at the mirror over her shoulder. It was the only way out and even if her entire being was screaming at her to leave it be, she was at her wits end. Tired, hungry and thirsty beyond sanity as she was, she had given in. She had let herself be herded back to this hateful place against her better judgement and now there was no turning back.

Those hateful tendrils she couldn’t see was almost everywhere, slithering over her in a sickly manner that made her want to retch out of pure repulsion, and behind her was her only escape. An open Eluvian leading to creators knew where. Enanela hesitated, caught like a mouse between a cat and a trap and it wasn’t until the void was only a hairsbreadth away from her that she actually reacted. Turning, she quickly hurtled herself through the open Eluvian with panic festering in her heart and the stress from it all made her senses go dark.

\--

She lay disoriented and shivering in a pile on what she figured was another stone floor. Something was poking her side - quite rudely at that – and in response Enanela both stirred and moaned from the fatigue and pain littering her body and soul. The feeling of being hungover was once again present and she slapped at the annoying thing poking her in the side in hopes of getting left alone. If it had wanted her dead it would have killed her by now and she was much too tired, hungry and much too battered to muster any feelings of being scared.

“Eolasas an, Rahngirem!” _(Know your place, slave!)_ The coldness of the unknown voice was as unmistakable as the sneer it hinted at.

The sound of the unknown voice would have had Enanela jerk up straight if it wasn’t for the kick that connect hard to her side. The new set of pain had her spluttering and coughing while clutching her side. Where had she ended up? Why was she suddenly being manhandled? She remembered the staggering feeling of going through the Eluvian and now suddenly she was being violently poked and kicked for seemingly no other reason than breathing. She tried her best to catch her breath and fumbled to grasp the situation and by the time the words uttered by that cold, arrogant voice slowly found their purchase in her spinning head, anger was already seeping into her heart. The moment the meaning really became clear to her, that anger turned to full-blown fury.

“Tara!” _(Stand!)_ The command was as clear as it was demanding and Enanela bristled as she slowly managed to turn her aching, uncooperative body to the point where she was on her knees glaring up at the source of that arrogant voice, still clutching her bruised ribcage.

Her crystal gaze landed upon a man of elven origin, if his ears was any indication. He had skin as pale as moonlight, crowned with shoulder length hair the color of the void itself and eyes that wore the color of a late night sky. The elf was - by any standard - staggeringly handsome. Some would even argue beautiful but Enanela couldn’t get past the arrogant, cruel glimmer in those slightly slanted eyes and the coldness of his features that seemed to quirk his slim, rosy lips into a permanent frown.

He was standing over her where she sat in a dimly lit room, looking down on her like she was no better than vermin - which could explain his choice of words earlier. Enanela could feel the heat of her anger rise to almost painful levels and wished for nothing more than the strength to be able to punch the elven man in the face and break that perfectly angled nose of his. The man only scoffed at her fiery glare before he let a wicked grin spread over his features. Shivers of ice trickled down her spine at the sight.

“Tara rahngirem!” _(Stand slave!)_ He demanded once more. Still with that predatory grin that showed of a set of sparkling white teeth plastered across his smug face.

“Pala adahl’en!” _(Go fuck a forest!)_ Enanela snarled defiantly, silently thanking the stars that Morrigan had had the kindness to both tutor her in the Elvhen language and leave at least a little of her knowledge behind before she left Skyhold.

The slim elf before her chuckled and the malicious sound had the hairs on Enanela’s arms stand attension. He wore a dark green and black robe of sorts - short in the arms in front and longer in the back. It had a slanted high collar and was an overlap-design, held together by a metal-clasp at his right hip. The leggings peeking out from under the robes were the same design as those of Solas and the sentinels of Mythal’s temple, probably made from the same material as Enanela’s daggers, dragonbone.

“Dya vaslanan ma, rahngirem…” _(I will tame you, slave…)_ the words could as well have been a physical slap and Enanela fought to get up to her feet even if the burning in her ribs told her she most likely had a cracked rib and should be laying down to rest.

“Fen’Harel etuna sule ara’len’din i’ve vaslasan, felasil!” _(Fen’Harel shit on my corpse before I submit, idiot!)_ She managed to get up to her feet, fire in her eyes and spitting the words at the man before her. The grin he wore widened in what could only be described as something akin to wicked delight. The almost sadistic arrogance combined with the gleeful satisfaction and mirth radiating of off the man, made Enanela want to run screaming for the hills. This man was by no means even remotely close to being a kind soul. Something inside him was wrong, broken.

The man waved his hand in a small gesture in front of her and she watched with rising dread as his dark-blue eyes lit up with the same light as Solas’ had all those months ago. She observed the excess mana swirl lazily around him in puffs of smoke and felt her heart sink as a heavy and highly unnatural sleepiness crept over her mind.

“Dya vaslasas, ara da’isenatha.” _(You will submit, my little dragon.)_ The dark haired man’s bizarre chuckle was the last thing that reached her ears before unconsciousness once again dragged her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Rahngirem = slave/owned thing, and is used to refer to slaves by none slaves. This is also an insulting way of referring to a slave. (If one wanted to refer to a slave without meaning harm one would use girem'lan (f)/ girem'lin (n)/ girem'len (m) and on a sidenote if slaves where referring to themselves or if a slave was referring to another slave they would use laimsa)
> 
> * Ara da’isenatha = My little dragon, is used mainly as an endearment for children. Used in this manner to a person one barely knows is considered impolite, insulting/snide, like the person is looking down upon the other.


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enanela get's to know her captors a little. And he learns that getting to her wont be as easy as he had imagined.
> 
> Enjoy!

No more had she woken up before Enanela was up on her feet and bristling again. Her head and ribs was pounding like she was being hit repeatedly - and quite viciously - by an Avvarian Warhammer and the pain in her left arm seemed worse than ever since she arrived at this creator’s forsaken place. Even if the situation hadn’t been as crappy as it now undoubtedly was, she would still have been more than a little cranky due to all the extra pain spicing her mood.

Right now she was furiously stomping around her tiny confinement – a cold, windowless and rather sterile stone room with only a pile of straw in one corner for her to sleep on. It couldn’t be more than a few square feet across and a few more in length, making the act of pacing that much harder and in truth Enanela had seen cleaning closets bigger than this. The only upside was the fact that it was lit by what looked like veil fire and it was at least dry.

She couldn’t believe the elf she had just met after the ordeal with that creepy void, had had the nerve to put her to sleep right after manhandling her and insulting her straight to her face, in a very rude and blatant manner to boot. Not to mention the way he had dared enjoy her defiance! As if he was dead sure he would win, that he would be able to make her submit like a common dog. Well he had another thing coming if he thought she was going to give him the pleasure of breaking. She would rather bite off her sharp tongue and drown in her own blood!

A growl, emanating from the depth of her soul, crept up her throat and escalated into an angry shout before it escaped over her full lips. She delivered a series of vicious kicks to the massive wooden door in a vain attempt to vent some frustration and with the faint hope that the door would somehow magically crumble under her angered onslaught. Unfortunately her escapades only served to make her even more nauseous and her already pounding head protested even more. As for the wooden door, it rattled and creaked under Enanela’s brutality but sadly didn’t budge even a little.

Enanela glared at the door, ready to go at it again out of pure spite but as she caught a glance of black smoke pouring in through the small bars in the top middle area of the door she paled several shades and withdrew quickly. Warily she backed up until she was standing right next to the pathetic excuse of a bed at the far end of the room and she kept the swirling blackness under strict supervision. To her utter relief it didn’t advance further than the door. It was almost as if it just wanted to make itself known to her, to let her know she was being supervised and with her small boost of regained confidence Enanela sneered at the forsaken thing.

“Vara, rahn’elvar’nas! Vara u’em!” _(Go away, thing of evil! Leave me alone!)_ The void-like entity shuddered at the sound of her voice, shrinking in on itself to become more compact before expanding again. It swirled agitatedly in front of the door for a moment before it slowly – almost reluctantly – crept back outside from wherever it came.

Enanela sunk down onto the make-shift bed with her back towards the wall and let out the breath she was holding. The re-appearance of that blighted void had not been a welcome sight and it had made her heart jump all the way up into her throat. The entity was a thing of nightmares and the mere memory of its slithering tentacles of dark energy crawling around on her skin made her want to heave. With that thing guarding her prison the outlook of escape became even less than narrow.

Irritated Enanela leaned her head to her knees to think only to snap her head back up with an audible hiss. The mere touch to her forehead burned like acid and in her surprised she quickly brought her fingers up to her face. She pushed a stray lock of her honey-blond hair out of the way before carefully trailing her forehead down towards her cheeks and chin with her right hand. Even the slightest touch ached with raw pain and for a moment Enanela wondered what in the name of the creators had happened. Had she hit her head on a grating iron on her way through the Eluvian?

An errant memory of the same kind of pain given to her by the betrayal of her now deceased clan jogged her memory and the possible truth of the pain dawned on her. It had her gasping in furious indignation.

“He didn’t!” She was hardly aware of the fact that the words had slipped over her lips as she was far too busy trying to find anything on her person to act as a mirror.

When she couldn’t find anything to substitute a mirror she roared in her anger, spat a few curses at no one in particular and wrenched herself to her feet to start her agitated pacing anew.

Solas had told her of the ancient meaning of the vallaslin and even though her people had never seen them as slave markings she had never wanted one. The elders of several clans hadn’t approved of her unorthodox way and a marking had been chosen for her then forcefully tattooed onto her face. The pain of that betrayal never fully went away and Enanela had become progressively solitude and even a tad resentful towards her peers in the wake of their intolerance.

When offered with the opportunity to escape her clan by going to the conclave to spy on the humans, she had gladly volunteered. And even though many of her kin didn't fully trust her due to her spiteful ways, they trusted the humans even less. Therefor they allowed her to take on the mission.

After surviving the destruction of the conclave, joining the inquisition and initiating in a relationship with Solas. He had eventually told her of the vallaslins meaning before offering to remove hers. Enanela had rejoiced and accepted the offer instantly – it was one of the few things still weighing in his favor after all he had done. How ironic that she would again be forced to wear a vallaslin not of her own choosing.

Enanela stopped her pacing and tried to calm her rapid, agitated breathing. Trembling with restraint and chaotic feelings she took a deep breath before letting it out in a heavy sigh. If only she could see the lines upon her face, then maybe she would know who the cruel man keeping her prisoner was.

With that thought driving her stubborn nature she started prodding her face with her fingers again. It took quite some time to map out the areas where the pain was sharpest but after a while a patterns started to emerge. Enanela sunk to the floor looking for something to draw with but found nothing. She cursed bitterly and sighed as she wracked her brain for possible ideas. The only substance available to her to draw with was her own blood and as for things to draw on, the floor was the only option.

Stubborn as she was Enanela pricked her finger on one of the clasps of her rogue-armor and began to draw. Soon a crude mirror-image of the vallaslin on her face could be seen on the stones of the floor, painted in red blood. She studied the image with wide, incredulous eyes. The image she knew well. As well as she knew all the vallaslins of the Gods revered in Dalish culture.

The door creaked and her gaze drifted up and to the side in response. The huge door swung inwards with a slight whine, revealing a familiar black haired, pale elvhen man with a cold smile on his face.

“Ithan ane then.” _(I see you are awake.)_ The gloating in the elf’s voice was unmistakable and even if Enanela wanted nothing more than to wipe that creepy smile of his face, she stayed still and glaring for the time being. The name matching the markings apparently carved into her face, clawed at her insides until she spat it at the man with enough contempt to make his smile turn smug.

“Falon’Din…”

The man’s dark blue eyes slowly drifted from roving over her features to land on the crude, bloody drawing on the floor. The smile on his face widened and his dark arrogant eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth as he took in the scene.

“Vin da’isenatha, ane emma mala.” _(Yes little dragon, you are mine now.)_ He drawled the words with enough visible pleasure to push Enanela of her hinges.

“Nuva uralas telsyla na i’ga syl ny laimem!” _(May nature strangle you with all the air you have wasted!)_ She glared at the man from her crouching position. In no way was she in any mood what so ever to even entertain the thought of humoring the elf before her. The way he chuckled at her defiance had her anger seeping out of every pore in her body and her silver eyes was spitting flaming daggers as she slowly rose from her crouch.

“Dhruas min…” _(You think this…)_ Enanela pointed to her newly tattooed face “…lasa ma sou?! _(…gives you power?!)_

Then she suddenly broke out laughing at the absurdity of it all. What was it with her and getting tangled with the elvhen pantheon, old gods and ancient horrors? Mythal and her well of sorrows, Morrigan and her “old god” son, Solas being Fen’Harel, the Titan in the deep roads, Corypheus and now apparently Falon’Din – fabled elvhen God of the dead. Her shrill laugh was bordering on hysterical and her silver eyes were wild from the chaotic feelings raging around her body, but laugh she did. Straight in the face of her surprised captor, whose smile faltered and later turned into a sneer when she poked him hard in the chest.

“Ane venuralas i’tath vyn esaya gera assan i’mar’av’ingala!” _(You are a god and still you are a moron!)_ The black haired man looked less than amused with her and glowered hard at her finger still poking his chest, but she didn’t really care. She had had enough of ancient gods and impossible enemies to last her a lifetime. Falon’Din towered menacingly over her, looking like he was about ready to kill her on the spot for her apparent audacity, but to his annoyance Enanela didn’t even flinch.

The last two years she had been to the fade in the flesh on several occasions, been turned into a semi-mage by accident then pitted against several of the most powerful evil spirits the fade had to offer. She had fought corrupted templars, crazed mages, lyrium infused dwarves, darkspawn and dragons. She even defeated part of a mythical titan and an ancient Tevinter magister turned darkspawn who believed himself a god in the making before having her magic ripped from her, quite literally. No way in every hell did the possibility of being face to face with Falon’Din scare her, not even in the slightest.

When the intimidation act didn’t bite on the almost hysterical woman in front of him, Falon’Din tried to demand her silence. That unfortunately only served to send the elf deeper into another fit of psychotic laughter. After all what could he do to her that she hadn’t already lived through? As she clutched her aching stomach she was vaguely aware of the fact that her laughing probably wasn’t the best idea considering Falon’Din’s reputation, but she just couldn’t bring herself to stop. She was too tired, too sore and she was hungry enough to eat a horse. The fact that this man in front of her thought he had any kind of power over her was suddenly the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

“Suin!” _(Silence!)_ The indignant roar coming from Falon’Din was followed by a strong hand grabbing her by her collar to her leather armor and hoisting her up to face him.

Enanela managed to get hold of herself enough to stop laughing but the insane mirth radiating off of her and the mad grin she wore wouldn’t go away. She met the furious gaze of Falon’Din without fault and in the midst of all that anger she could see something flickering that had her wicked smile widen as she ushered a silent challenge to the man. His eyes betrayed an insecurity. The pale elf didn’t seem to know what to make of her, she must be throwing him off his game and if he was indeed the Elvhen God of the dead, then it wasn’t at all strange. He was probably used to people bending to his will in the blink of an eye and he was probably not used to the willful, stubbornness she embodied.


	5. Survival at the hands of a demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demon get's a little to close for comfort but in the end Enanela must confess for that to maybe be a good thing?

Enanela’s stomach rumbled for the umpteenth time, reminding her vividly about the fact that she hadn’t had anything to eat for ages. And the last water she drank was about two days ago, making her esophagus feel like one of those dried up bushels she always saw in the Hissings Waste.

At least she thought it was two days ago.

There was no way to really discern day from night in the tiny room she was currently locked into, but she knew for certain she hadn’t eaten for about three days prior to being kidnapped by that creators forsaken void - she hadn’t had much of an appetite during her sulking exploration of the ancient temple. Moreover, she knew her last swig of water had been right before descending the spiraling stairs leading to the huge central chamber of Mythal’s Temple where the well of sorrows had once rested.

Enanela had no way of knowing how long she had been asleep or knocked out in between her waking moments since she first encountered that blasted void-entity, but she was fairly certain that it had been at least a little over a day since Falon’Din stormed out of her cell in a fit of rage after she laughed him in the face and challenged his authority. That - and the fact that her esophagus was burning, her lips had begun to crack slightly and she had hardly been needing to use that dreadful lidded bucket in the far corner of her tiny cell - led her to estimate it had been about two days since she last drank anything.

Sighing at her predicament she quietly contemplated the fact that she might have been left to die for her audacity to wound the ancient God’s ego. Falon’Din’s vanity had been one of the harder debated topics concerning the Dalish’s revered Gods. Some said the tales of his vanity had been fabrications of the shemlen, a way to put their beloved God to shame. Other’s believed the more sinister tales of his cruelty and vanity as being closer to the truth. Enanela snickered tiredly - a hollow, rasping noise – as she thought of how appalled her former keeper would be had she known what Enanela now knew about their so called Gods.

Enanela had, throughout her now twenty-five years of living always sought knowledge and she had always – to her elders annoyance - disagreed with the way the Dalish shunned others. They were so stuck in their own beliefs of righteousness and superiority that any attempts to change or implementing new knowledge often led to ridicule or even exclusion. She had learned the hard way that being different was not tolerated. Her attempts to refuse a vallaslin and later on when she refused to take a husband to further the clan was met with harsh methods of correction. Life in the clans was grim for one not unquestioningly devoted to their strong believes and in some ways she had been hurt more by her own people than she had ever been by the so called “flat ears” and shemlen the Dalish so loved to slander and loathe.

At least she had been able to break free before she had been forced to take that arrogant, big mouthed hunter from a neighboring clan as husband. Of course the inquisition had turned out to be just another set of chains in her life, but at least it had always offered choices.

A picture of her first kiss with Solas in the fade flitted across her mind and made her internally scoff. Ok so her inexperience in making her own choices had proven to lead her to some really poor once concerning her love-life. But at least her intuition and strong will had rarely let her down in the terms of battle-strategy.

A sharp stabbing of hunger that almost had the elf double over drew Enanela back from her melancholy reminiscing. In the here and now she felt weaker than she had in a very long time and she knew she was delicately balancing on the verge of desperation. But she just couldn’t bring herself to beg. No. Not yet. Not until it was absolutely necessary would she stoop so low as to actually sate the bastard’s ego and grovel. Instead she sat hugging her knees to her chest in her make-shift bed, leaning her clammy back and weary head against the cool wall while staring at the roof. The chill from the stone helped keep her head clear as she concentrated hard on her breathing.

It was a challenge to regulate her breaths evenly and she struggled through the pain to keep them deep enough to be able to sink into a more meditative state, in an attempt to forget her body’s desperate survival instincts. She had her eyes firmly closed and listened intently to her own heartbeat to find a rhythm to which she could time her labored breathing.

In… _“thumpthump”_ \-  out… _“thumpthump”_

In… _“thumpthump”_ \-  out... _“thumpthump”_

In her medative, half asleep condition Enanela hardly noticed as the swirling blackness of the void-entity, poured itself inside her cell through the bars in the upper part of the huge wooden door. It took a few moment for her to register the entity’s presence where it hovered patiently by the door, but even as she did she ignored it. She was to tired and waste any energy paying attension to it.

“Go away…” Enanela muttered in annoyance when she realized the hovering black fog wouldn’t leave of its own accord. She sensed it stirring in response to her voice - as it had always done - but as long as it kept its distance she still didn’t bother looking at it.

“You are no longer afraid.” A deep voice stated with just a hint of curiosity. The voice was gravelly and monotone and instantly had Enanela snap to attension. Shocked, she looked over at the cloud of black by the door. She eyed it with weary suspicion.

“Oh? So you speak now?” The usual sharp tone of snark crept back into her voice. A defense mechanism she developed young and later had had the honor of perfecting together with a certain Tevinter Altus, Dorian, during their time together in the Inquisition.

“Yes…” the monotone voice confirmed without delay and Enanela watched the void shudder and swirl around the same small area. It didn’t elaborate further. Instead it remained stubbornly quiet, billowing around its own axis on the spot it had chosen in front of the massive door. When it became painfully obvious that the entity indeed had said all it was going to on the subject, Enanela sighed and decided to humor the strange horror.

“No, I am not afraid…” she said, observing with growing curiosity as the entity shrunk in on itself before expanding again. It had been doing that a lot since they met, and always in response to her voice. Somehow it looked like it was fighting its own appearance and at times Enanela was sure she could see a flicker of a more humanoid being inside all that black fog.

“Why?” The blackness wondered, drawing the elf out of her intriguing thoughts.

“Well, aren't you the curious one…” Enanela replied, watching again as the being shuddered in response to every vibration of her voice. It could almost be seen as endearing had it not been so creepy. When the darkness once again stayed silent she gave the thing half a tired, lopsided smile and asked:

“Would you go away if I asked nicely?”

The dark entity stayed silent but swirled agitatedly at the spot, making a series of rapid shrinking and expanding while it hovered just inside the door. At multiple occasions Enanela glimpsed that humanoid creature amidst the swirling puffs of smoke. It was never more than glimpses though and it only served to annoy her. It felt like the thing was hiding something from her.

The void stopped its twirling, shrinking and expanding after a while and started to sway lightly from side to side. It seemed the equivalent of a humanoid leaning its weight from one foot to another in an impatient gesture and with that Enanela gave in with another annoyed sigh.

“No I am not afraid anymore because I realized there is nothing you can do to me that can trump the near constant pain I already feel.” There, she said it. Begrudgingly so.

She was met with more silence, but this time it somehow felt like a different kind. The entity was almost completely still, if one didn’t take into account the miniscule currents that seemed to always move the smoke around inside the being itself. Enanela was questioning her own sanity but she felt like the entity was somehow contemplating something and she was just about to open her mouth to sate her curiosity when a deep growling rumble - emanating painfully from Enanela’s stomach - cut through the deafening silence. It almost made the tired, weakened elf blush.

“You need sustenance.” The statement out of the dark entity was flat and was as shocking as it was annoying to the slightly embarrassed elf. Enanela was clutching her one arm around her wildly protesting midsection and answered by glowering daggers at the cloud before deigning it with an answer.

“Yes… thank you Captain obvious… Us pesky mortals have been known to need sustenance from time to time…”

Her snarky outburst was harsher than she had intended and almost immediately regretted it for fear of being left to starve alone and forgotten again. She nervously watched as the void moved and twitched to the sound of her voice before becoming eerie still. The longer the entity stayed petrified the less Enanela could breathe. Soon she felt like she was holding her breath, waiting for some unknown disaster to strike and she silently wished she had but a lid on her emotions. But instead of attack - or a retort of any kind - the entity just suddenly retreated out the way it came.

 --

Some time later the door creaked. Discretely opening into the tiny space Enanela claimed as her own. She was still seated in the same manner she had been when the void left her and she found she didn’t know how much time had passed since she had thankfully dozed off – or more like passed out. Enanela cursed inwardly. Waking up wasn’t a pleasant experience as she was once again assaulted by her body’s desperate cries for sustenance. Sluggishly she turned to see who was at the door - praying it wouldn't be a certain arrogant elf since she was way past the thought of begging for her life.

The sight meeting her had her jaw drop and instantly jolt wide awake. In the broad doorway stood - or rather hovered - a fear demon balancing a small round tray with a multitude of obscure objects stacked upon it.

“Here.“ Said a deep gravelly voice she recognized instantly. She couldn’t believe what she was witnessing and gawked at the demon for a long while. Or maybe she should refer to it as a spirit since it didn’t attack her on sight as was the trademark action of almost any demon.

“You can shapeshift?!” she managed to croak out in a coarse voice, dry and cracked from lack of moisture.

“No.” came the instant and very matter-of-fact answer.

“But…” Enanela motioned with her hand to the whole of the entity but got cut off before she could finish.

“You stopped being afraid.” it said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That actually kind of made sense. Enanela remembered the fear demons in the fade did that too. Take the form of what you feared the most. Enanela’s worst fear was the emptiness and loneliness of being cut off from everything. Which was exactly what the void she used to see had signified.

The demon looked at her with its head cocked to one side for a moment before moving the tray in an inviting gesture.

"Here." It repeated in the same monotone tone of voice as before.

Enanela eyed the demon with caution, it could all be just an elaborate ruse to get her to relax in its presence, and so she took her time in testing its patience. Seeing no signs what so ever of the usual hostility though, she decided to walk up to it. Getting up from her huddled position proved to be harder than she would have wanted to admit but after a few shaky stumbles she managed to hobble over to the being by seeking support from the nearby wall.

She was still wary of the demon she approached but her thirst and hunger won over caution. When she was close enough she peeked at the tray with suspicious hope, unfortunately she ended up wrinkling her nose. Everything the demon, or spirit, had brought was raw and even if she was on the verge of starving, the thought of eating raw meat, roots and unknown mushrooms was not a pleasing idea. Mainly due to the fact that it could be very painful and potentially even deadly.

If one didn't cook some foods correctly the least dangerous symptom would be rash, nausea, stomach pains and fatigue. And Enanela had never been really good with herbology and was always considered a rather mediocre hunter at best. This fact meant she was pretty much clueless as to what foods was actually on display in front of her. That also left her no way of knowing if she could chance eating any of it raw, however disgusting that might have been. Seeing no other way out she begrudgingly opted for leaving the food be. Instead she greedily took the tankard of lifesaving water and guzzled it down heartily. When she was done she dried off a few stray drops from her chin with her sleeve, still holding the tankard.

“Thank you.” She said with a faint smile and put the cup back on the tray the demon was holding. At least she wouldn’t die of thirst and for that she found herself rather thankful. It was a dreadful way to go, or so she had been told.

“You did not eat.” The spirit said almost accusingly.

The words and above all the miniscule change in tone shocked Enanela. It was mindboggling enough to have a demon had bring her food and water, but to have it sounding dismayed by her choice to leave the food untouched was unheard of. If sounding disappointed was at all possible for a demon – or spirit. She shook her head slightly in astonishment, wondering how far gone into madness she had actually gone for her to hear emotions in a demons voice.

“That…” Enanela managed to croak and pointed to the food. “… needs to be cooked lest it'll most likely make me sick.”

The demon - spirit, or whatever - looked to the tray in silent contemplation. It didn’t move a muscle for a long time and when it finally did move again it only looked to Enanela with a cocked head and then back to the food. Was it trying to understand something? That fact confounded the elf even more.

“But thank you, for trying.” Enanela added when she realized she didn’t want to be rude to the only being seeming to make an effort to help her stay alive.

The spirit looked back to her for a moment more before slowly turning to disappear out the thick, huge wooden door without a word. Enanela was left behind feeling confused and oddly alone. Could a fear demon - or was it a spirit - show concern? Wasn't that in opposition with its nature and should be driving it mad? The more she thought of what Solas had taught her about spirits in their brief time together, the more confused she got. She couldn't make heads or tails of it and in her weakened state she had no choice but to leave the conundrum be for fear of really turning mad.

Trying not to let the feelings of hopelessness and loneliness consume her, she curled up on her makeshift bed of straw and closed her eyes to try and sleep.


	6. Forgotten history

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enanela finds a friend and gets her hands on a little more knowledge than she bargained for.
> 
> Just as the titel to the chapter suggests, here we get to know a little more about how I built the history of the fragmented lore of the DA universe.

The fear demon – or more likely spirit – had been coming by regularly since that first time it shocked Enanela with its changed form.

At first Enanela had thought the stoic spirit to be indifferent to anything she said or did. But after careful study she found that it was showing a variety of very subtle and easily overlooked signs of emotions. This came as a huge wake-up-call and surprise to the elf, but she tried to rationalize this realization by reminding herself of Cole and of Solas’ teachings. Cole was a conundrum in himself from day one but had always shown a form of subtle and very naïve emotions. As she got to know the spirit behind the odd boy, he quickly became one of her closest and most trusted friends. And until the day he saw fit to return to the fade he had rarely left her side.

Enanela drew on memories of Solas – or Fen’Harel if one wanted to be picky - who, allegedly could befriend spirits even beyond the veil and he always talked about them as sentient beings. With Enanela’s new experience - with the fear demon or whatever the spirit in front of her was - added to her previous history with Cole and the information she gained in the company of Solas. She concluded that Cole was not a special case among his kin. Spirits most certainly had to have some manner of emotional spectrum, at least after reaching a certain point in its development. Maybe even always.

She pondered that maybe wisps could be seen as children, with their eager curiosity, impulsiveness and short attension-spans. And maybe the more knowledge the wisps gathered the more they grew and formed into different aspects, such as wisdom, compassion and justice. Just like children of any race.

Enanela’s new spirit friend was awkward in its stumbling curiosity - just as Cole had been until he found himself in the mortal realm – and the being seemed to really struggle in its fumbling attempts to help her. It always brought her water, sometimes it brought questions and sometimes even attempts of what Enanela believed to be cooked food. And each time Enanela had to turn down inedible food or things that she suspected had been formerly known as food, she went from feeling bad to worse. Not only because the spirit seemed to get agitated and frustrated from its constant failings in the culinary arts, but also because she was starving.

The spirit of fear, or whichever aspect it was reflecting, was now eyeing the tray containing another culinary cock up. It was looking - or more like glowering if one knew how to read the odd spirit - at the pieces of charcoal there that probably, at some point, had been some kind of animal. Or maybe mushrooms, Enanela couldn't be sure from the distance she was seated. The spirit turned its head from the tray, cocked it to the side and looked at Enanela for a moment. Then it looked back to the food. It was the same gesture it made every time it seemed to be contemplating its failure or something Enanela had said that it didn’t quite understand. But it was the energy it emitted that really told Enanela of its mood. Well that, and the fact that the tentacles surrounding its face where twitching like the tail of an agitated tabby.

“Thank you for trying. It is very kind of you.” Enanela said with a faint but genuine smile that garnered her the full attension of the spirit once more. She did appreciate the spirits awkward stumbling’s to try and feed her and so she tried to keep up appearances to make the oddly gentle being feel better. The strange horror had grown on her. She didn’t mind spending time in its presence and even found herself looking forward to its often wordless visits. A dry, snickering chuckle erupted from the tiny elf as she wondered if the lack of food had sent her down the road to delusional madness after all.

The spirit cocked its head at her in response to her chuckling, scrutinizing her with its ever unchanging demeanor before it abruptly turned to hover out of the room.

Enanela sighed and let her still sore face slump back to rest on her knees where she sat curled up against the wall on her make-shift bed of pale straw. By now she knew the spirit well enough to know she most likely hadn't upset it. Abrupt wordless departures was just the way thing were when it came too that creature. But she couldn't help but worry about being left alone again, even though she was quite frankly getting much too week to worry about it, let alone do anything about it.

She was so tired. Weak and sore into her very bones. Even the water brought by the spirit couldn’t shake the tiredness from her limbs any longer and she wondered how long she had been locked up in this tiny space in the middle of places unknown to her. There was a very real possibility that the ancient God of the Dead had indeed locked her up to starve since he had yet to make a reappearance since she laughed him in the face. Or maybe he just didn’t understand that mortals needed to eat and drink to survive. Enanela had heard tales of the ancient Elvhen and how some of them managed to survive without sustenance for long periods of time, some even indefinitely.

She wondered how long she would survive should he never return to her cell. Maybe she would get lucky and that spirit would actually learn how to cook. But then how long would she be forced to stay in this tiny cell? Long enough to make her mad? Or until she surrendered…

She sneered internally at the thought of giving that arrogant elf anything he demanded of her before turning her thoughts to more safe topics. Like the fact that she hadn't showered or bathed for Gods only knew how long. The only thing she wanted more than clean clothes and a warm bath, was food. But thanks to her new found - if a tad odd - friend, at least she wouldn't have go to sleep thirsty. And she thanked the creators for the fact that she didn’t feel the need to answer natures call into that nasty bucket before slinking off into the dream world. She was sure she wouldn't have been able to crawl all the way over to the bucket in the other end of the small room even under pain of death.

__

“What’s wrong da’fenlin?” _(da’fen – little wolfling)_ Enanela looked up to see her mother stirring a pot over the open fire. She wore that look of warm, loving concern that Enanela had missed since the day her mother died from an errant arrow by a careless shemlen hunter. Enanela smiled at her mother and nodded, watching as the woman turned her focus back to the pot and started humming. She listened intently to her mother's humming voice and joined in when the tune became clear.

This was a dream.

Enanela knew almost instantly but she didn’t care. Dreams were mostly bad experiences these days but somehow, right now she was being blessed with this rare opportunity to relive a happy past event and she was not about to squander it. She got up and meandered over to the image of her mother and embraced the elven woman. The woman chuckled softly as she answered the embrace.

“Ar lath ma da’fenlin.” _(I love you little wolfling.)_ Enanela could hardly manage to tear herself away from the memory of her beloved mother and not until her mother lovingly chuckled again did she break the embrace.

“Lathan na mamae.” _(I love you mother.)_ The words turned to whispers before they made it past her lips and ended in a sigh.

The memory of her mother cooking stew by the fire in the busy camp was beginning to blur as it slowly gave way to the more sinister darkness of the raw fade and the nightmares that always hounded Enanela’s sleep since the destruction of the conclave and the Temple of Andraste. She knew the nightmares always found ways to invade her sleep but however she tried she couldn’t do anything to stop them. All she could do was endure and wait. Somewhere during the course of the nightmare, something would happen and it would be horrible enough to send her jolting awake in the physical world.

She sighed again, feeling hopeless as she looked up to see the black city emerging through the formerly bright blue sky of her pleasant dream. _“Here we go again.”_ She thought and tried her best to mentally prepare for whatever her mind had conjured up to torture her this time. Closing her eyes she set her jaw in a stubborn manner and settled in to await her fate.

“I see you’ve met my son.” A gravely, deep female voice had Enanela spin around in search of what she believed to be a demon come to tempt her. But she found nothing as the darkness of the raw fade once again shifted it gave way to the image of a luscious green clearing. A statue took shape at the far end of the materializing clearing and at the same time Enanela recognized her surroundings, the well of sorrows seemed to erupt into a boiling frenzy of agitated voices.

“Mythal!” Enanela exclaimed in surprise, echoing the voices screaming in her mind as she took in the elderly woman standing next to the withering statue in the clearing where Enanela, her friends and Morrigan had fought the dragon guardian of Mythal’s altar. Enanela was pretty sure that her head would be spinning from shock if it hadn’t been attached to her shoulders.

“You look surprised, girl.” The old woman chuckled sounding like they spoke just days ago.

“You’ve been gone a long time... Even the voices went silent…” Enanela answered warily, trying to think through the cacophony of noise ringing in her head. She kept her distance to the supposed elvhen God of motherhood, justice and love. She was suspicious by nature and recent events had done nothing to make the elf any less so. She watched the old woman frown as her features darken for a moment.

“Not gone child, merely, restrained.” The ancient woman disclosed and Enanela could hardly believe her ears. Someone was actually strong enough to hold the old crone against her will? To only curb the will of the ancient woman took unsurmountable amounts of energy and Enanela couldn’t even imagine the power needed to cage her. Moments later something clicked in her jumbled mind and the name clawed its way out of her throat in a growling sneer before she could stop it.

“Solas…”

“Yes…” Mythal pursed her lips like she had tasted a lemon before she focused her intense, golden gaze once more at Enanela. The young elf found she could do nothing but listen intently.

“Your intuition is as impeccable as it was last we met. This is indeed about the one you call Solas. He needs to be stopped, before he cripples the worlds he so desperately wants to save.” The last sentence was sneered and there was a small pause where the ancient woman looked angrily at nothing in particular. Once Mythal turned her gaze back to Enanela she smirked.

“And that, my dear girl, is why you are here.”

Enanela felt like a rabbit caught between a predator and a steep cliff. There had been too much of this lately, feeling trapped and toyed with and her frustration made her want to scream at the top of her lungs. The only thing stopping her was her bond to Mythal, the well seemingly wouldn’t let her defy its deity and that served to agitate the elf even further.

“What?” Enanela ground out the annoyed words. Hadn’t she done enough? Been through enough? Couldn’t the world for once just find another whipping boy?!

“You are here because you hold my sons interest.” Mythal answered in a drawling voice, looking very pleased with herself while leaning on one leg with her hand on her jutting hip. It made Enanela seethe with suppressed irritation.

“Excuse me?” Was she hearing right? That disrespectful piece of druffalo-dung she met earlier was Mythal’s son? And he - the fabled Falon’Din, ancient God of the dead and also the one who kicked Enanela’s ribs, insulted her, forcefully put slave markings on her face and then locked her up to starve – he was also interested in her? If so the man had a very bizarre way courting someone and the mere thought of what he might have actually had intended for her in the long run had Enanela bristle internally.

“You’ve captured both my sons it seems, but one is prideful, the other vain and both of them blinded by their own petty ambitions.” Mythal sounded disappointed and Enanela felt sympathetic. If her children turned out like that she would be disappointed to... Then the meaning of Mythal’s word hit her like a full-blown stonefist-spell to the face.

“Ehh… Both of them?” All the irritation had drained from Enanela and her thoughts were spinning violently.

Unable to form a coherent thought in the light of the information thrown at her by Mythal, she listened in stunned silence as the fabled Elvhen all-mother got lost in a monolog of intricate plots and ancient history. She tried to keep up as ancient lore got weaved into the world of today.

Mythal had taken Elgar’nan as a husband at the dawn of time, in accordance with every piece of lore ever discovered. But Enanela was surprised to learn that Falon’Din and Dirthamen were their only children. They were twins, born into the Evanuris by grace of their parents, and just as the stories told they could be seen as two pieces of a whole. They were each other’s opposites yet they were at the same time very much alike and they had been utterly inseparable for a long time.

Andruil and Sylaise had both been graced into the Evanuris after developing their philosophies – Vir Tanadhal, the way of the three trees and Vir Atishan, the way of peace - that came to quickly deeply influence the areas where they lived. Ghilan’nain was an elf of common status that won the heart of Andruil when she refused to bend to Andruil’s will and let the huntress finish off the Halla she had been hunting. Ghilan’nain had used her knowledge of beasts and nature to foil the Goddess as she hunted the commoner for her audacity to defy her, and in the end she brought Andruil enough pleasure of a wild, challenging hunt to grant her the blessing of the Huntress. Thus Ghilan’nain was uplifted to Godhood and earned the nickname “Mother of all Halla” after engaging in a relationship with Andruil.

Sylaise took a liking to, and eventually married June, as the fragmented history suggested but Andruil and June were the actual siblings. Sylaise only related to Andruil by marriage. It shocked Enanela to the core to learn that June wasn’t accepted as one of the Evanuris by grace of his talents, but because he was Sylaise husband. In order to excel in his new position he implanted himself with raw lyrium - he enchanted himself so to speak - and from that procedure stemmed his extra ordinary talent for crafting.

Andruil, always being the one seeking new challenges, had been a huge catalyst in the Elvhen downfall. After she came back insane from one of her many inane hunting’s of the outcasts in the realm known as the void, the corruption had influenced more than just her. Her lands had to be purged and Andruil along with it. Together with a mourning Ghilan’nain, Mythal managed to drain Andruil of her powers and lock her spirit in an earthly prison. But Falon’Din had already been influenced by the vile corruption and as his greed and vanity grew exponentially. As did the sorrow of Dirthamen.

For years Mythal battled to keep her son under wraps but eventually she had to bind together with the other Evanuris to stop her son from rampaging through the world with war to satisfy his ever growing ego. After the battle - where Falon’Din was stripped of much of his powers - until such a day he would find his heart again -Dirthamen withdrew from the others and the world. He couldn’t bear to see his brother in his pitiful state and struggled to stay neutral. Until the assassination of Mythal herself drew him out hiding, forcing him to choose a side.

Dirthamen suspected that his brother was behind the assassination but without proof there was nothing he could do. He tried to shoulder the role of Mythal as mediator but ultimately he was forced watch as the pantheon warred among themselves, ripping the lands asunder without the stabilizing force that was Mythal. He witnessed the ever growing desperation of the common folk that went from willing and loyal subjects to slaves and one day he just couldn’t take it anymore. He left the name Dirthamen behind in shame, and instead rose the infamous Fen’Harel, releasing slaves and oppressed common folk as he went.

“Wait!” Enanela interrupted in awed shock.

“Are you implying Solas, or Fen’Harel, is also Dirthamen? Elvhen God of secrets?!” Mythal nodded slightly at this, looking sternly at the elf sitting with her mouth now wide hanging open.

“The name Solas he took because he was convinced that his pride to stay neutral with his brother, is what ultimately led to my untimely demise. Fen’Harel was an insult hurled at him by the remaining Evanuris when they realized who he was. An insult he took to heart. And when he understood that he could not stop the disruptive wars of his brethren, he summoned the veil to lock them in a limbo between this world and the fade. A place only he and his brother knew of. But since Falon’Din can’t access his powers only Solas could travel freely. The very same place where you are now.” Mythal stopped talking, waiting patiently for some kind of reaction from Enanela except the utter shock written across her face.

Enanela didn’t have another reaction to give.

Continuing on Mythal revealed she had kept Solas under close watch during the ages. Always staying vigilant against the horrors that was barely being managed in the world. She had never believed Solas to be so desperate as to give one of the ancient Elvhen power-orbs to one of the very first darkspawns. But by the time she realized it, it was already way to late and other measures had to be taken to ensure the Magister didn’t succeed.

“I was most curious when my son fell for you. He is usually beyond careful. But with you, he strayed far from his usual carefulness.” Enanela scoffed at the old woman’s words, finally drawn out of her chock and looked angrily at the ground.

“For a time I truly believed he’d choose you over his foolish plan. I believed he would try to find a different path because he would not want to harm you. But it seems I underestimated his pride and foolishness.” Mythal’s gaze disappeared into the fogs of ancient memories and she fell silent. Enanela used the silence to try and collect herself in the midst of all this overwhelming information.

“So… Not that I don’t appreciate the history lesson, but… is there an actual point to this conversation? What does this all have to do with me?" Enanela tried but couldn’t quite keep the defensive snark out of her tone.

Mythal just chuckled.

“You need Falon’Din’s help. Just as he needs yours. Though I suspect you both would rather bite your own tongue than admit to such. However, I cannot help you retake what was stolen and I cannot aid you against Solas. Falon’Din can."

There was a moment’s eerie silence as Enanela fought the control of the well. She wanted nothing more than to scream her frustration at the old woman. It didn’t matter that she was the supposed Elvhen All-Mother. Enanela wanted to shove her rage down the ancient womans throat. Again she found herself wondering what she had done to deserve all this. Enough was enough! But in the end the well won over her rage, to Enanela’s bitter annoyance.

“You want me to believe that Falon'Din will help me? Out of what? The goodness of his heart?!” Enanela ranted angrily clenching her only fist by her side until her knuckles whitened.

“Don’t let the darkness fool you child. Falon’Din was not always as he is now, nor was his companion the horror it’s become. The corruption runs deep but is not yet permanent.” the old crone mused cryptically.

“No more games Mythal! What is it exactly you think I can achieve!?” Enanela kept her voice level only due to the compulsion from the well, but the pitch suggested the words were meant for screaming.

“My dear girl. You possess so much more power than you can possibly imagine. Do you think the magic bestowed upon you can be so easily taken away? You feel the pain still, do you not? Even more so since you arrived at the castle of Falon’Din I suspect. Now why is that I wonder? ‘Tis most curious, hmm?” Mythal smirked knowingly and watched as the words found purchase with Enanela before continuing.

“As for my foolish sons… They are both idiots. Blind and corrupted. But _you_ have the power to make them see. An iron will and loving heart can move even the most stubborn of beings, and both you have in abundance.”


	7. Voices in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enanela is faced with a conundrum in the fade. She is not a mage and only has limited knowledge of the place. Where will she end up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly sorry for taking so long to get this chapter presentable. Not only is life interfering. Managed to get myself into a slump on top of having an annoying cold that wont leave me alone (I'm on my forth week...), have alot of workhours and ofc there is X-mas things to take care of. But I also decided to try and translate the entire dialog in the second half of the chapter to Elvhen and THAT took me a while. Hopefully it is at least semi-ok grammar wise. XD
> 
> Enjoy!

Enanela started pacing as she ranted off protests to Mythal's conclusion about the situation. She didn't understand how Mythal could ever believe her to have pull with Solas. Much less the arrogant ass that turned out to be Falon'Din! She was by all intents and purposes only a powerless shemlen, currently stuck in between a rock and a hard place. And if she was being perfectly honest, she wasn't even sure she wanted to understand the old crone's reasoning.

Mythal's reddened lips quirked into her signature smirk as she listened patiently to the stuttering nonsense out of the young elf’s mouth. Her golden eyes shone with obvious mirth. She knew Enanela would eventually step up to the challenge she laid out before her. The kind, curious nature and stubbornness of the tiny rogue wouldn't allow anything less, of that Mythal was sure. All that remained was watching the story unfold. And maybe give another small nudge to any of the key players a little further down the road in this grand scheme of 'saving the world'.

Everything was blurring together and Enanela paused her ranting to run her hand over her face in an attempt clear a fogginess from her vision. It didn't work. Cursing she stopped her inane pacing to rub her eyes more thoroughly with the palm of her hand. What was happening? Once more her vision stayed blurry and she spun on her heel to examine her surroundings. To her surprise everything around her was distorted. The entire grove, and Mythal with it, seemed to be morphing out of existence.

She looked back to Mythal with a slight panic in her eyes. She knew where this was going and in no way did she feel ready to be hounded by the nightmares that always seemed to find her no matter what she tried. Especially not after this emotional twister of a meeting that had her want to crawl into a corner and hide. Her only hope seemed to be that maybe, just maybe, Mythal would take pity on her.

Mythal met Enanela's crystal gaze with her stern golden one. To Enanela’s disbelief the old womans gaze seemed to be filled with a fondness unlike any she had ever witnessed from the crone. It took her a while to notice the elder's lips moving but even as she focused she heard nothing. Squinting and straining she struggled to hear the old woman until finally the words of Mythal reached her twitching, pointed ears.

“You need to wake up.” The words were weak and slightly distorted but they were enough to goad the confused elf into realigning her focus.

Yes, she thought, she indeed needed to wake up. And preferably before any nightmares took hold.

Now. The only problem was _how_ to wake herself up.

Whenever Enanela had lucid dreams - all of which eventually turn bad - somewhere along the line the bad dreams sent her jolting awake in an instant. A knee-jerk reaction to the myriad of unspeakable horrors unfolding in the fade. But this time there was no horror. At least not yet. Nothing to spark that instinctual return to the waking world and while she was being honest, she didn't really want one either.

That left one very crucial and currently unanswered question…

How did one find their way back from the fade to their resting body in the mortal realm?

Enanela had no answer, not even a slight clue. Her heart sank as the familiar grip of hopelessness snaked around it.

She had heard countless stories of somniari getting lost in their dreams. She had even seen the evidence of one when she hunted the previous Inquisitor through the Frostbacks. With ones mortal body neglected, by choice or no, it slowly withered away from the world and you were bound to have your spirit forever roam the fade. But so long as one didn't get lost or trapped in the fade, dreamers and mages knew how to get to and fro their bodies. It was taught to them at an early age along with knowledge of the dangers of demons and their ilk.

Enanela however, was not a mage. She was a rogue. And thus had never been taught the ways of the fade.

Defeated she fell to her knees with a near silent whimper. The sickly green and obscure darkness of the fade crawled ever closer, surrounding her like a cocoon. She was trapped... Doomed to await the horrors of her nightmares until they had bullied her enough to send her exhausted mind reeling into her body on instinct. She was hyperventilating at this point, she knew, but still her lungs where screaming as if they lacked air. Desperately she clutched her arm around her torso, trying to hold herself together by the skin of her teeth while seeking to calm her panicked heart.

Negative emotions would only serve to attract malicious spirits, she told herself. Her own mind was demon enough, she didn’t need more demons that would mock and hurt her while trying to gain control. She couldn't allow that. She was stronger than this. She had to be!

"Don’t be frightened child.” the last stern words of Mythal drifted slowly to Enanela’s ears just as last of the grove evaporated. She willed herself to listen.

“Close your eyes. Listen…"

As the words found purchase in her chaotic mind, she felt a warm feeling spreading through her body, soothing as it went and strengthening her resolve. She pinched her eyes closed, tight enough to form a crease between her eyebrows. She concentrated hard on the warmth making its way through her veins and breath by breath she won the battle over her racing heart. Soon enough even her hands stopped shaking, her pulse returned to normal and her body once again adhered to her commands without protesting wildly.

Enanela breathed a sigh of relief, sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to Mythal’s kindness and settled in to continue to listening as instructed.

Her ears was met by the deafening sound of silence at first. She tried not to be disheartened as she put her trust in Mythal. The well approved and stirred at the silent signs of servitude. Enanela ignored them and continued searching outwards with her sense of hearing.

Sounds of faint, muffled voices drifted towards her, making her ears twitch in response and her eyes fly open. She had to work hard to suppress a happy squeal and an impulse to engage in a wild victory-dance at her success. Instead she closed her eyes again and focused on those far away sounds that morphed from creaks and hushed voices to irritated bickering.

The harder she concentrated the louder the voices grew and soon she could hear the agitated pitch in the argument as if she was right next to them. Who were they? And what were they arguing about? She focused harder again. Spellbound by her own curiosity.

\--

 

The fade had given way to darkness. She didn't know how it happened but when she opened her eyes again there was nothing around her except utter blackness. In her startle she forgot to focus. She forgot listen and now panic was crawling back into her heart. She was alone, trapped and forgotten. No one would save her. She was done.

She choked on a wet sob that seemed to wrench itself out of her very soul. Then came another. And before she knew it, warm tears where streaming freely down her face.

"Thena!” _(Wake up!)_ Falon'Din's voice carried his demand even into the nothingness surrounding her and startled her back from her panic.

Tears and hopelessness was quickly replaced by a bitter frown spreading upon her face. His voice reminded her of the dull ache she still felt in her ribs and the soreness of her face. The humiliation of it all was enough to reawaken her spite. She really didn’t want to deal with that pompous ass right now. In fact, she wanted nothing to do with him ever if possible. Not that she seemed to have a choice in the matter, if Mythal was to be believed. And believe the old hag she did, begrudgingly so.

But maybe alone wasn't the worst thing in the world she thought. At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with all the craziness that always seemed to litter her life at every turn.

Her desire to return to her body slowly started to ebb away as Enanela was caught struggling between what she knew she probably had to do and what she actually wanted. Her focus and mind started drifting as she fought with herself and it took a while before she realized that as she did so, the voices around her seemed to fade. Startled she scrambled to push all her personal thoughts and desires away and focus to keep herself connected. Creators only knew what would happen if she lost herself to this darkness that still hugged her closer than was comfortable.

“Ase dinal.” _(She is dying.)_ The monotone voice of her favorite "demony" spirit stated matter-of-factly.

The meaning of its words concerned her as they sunk in. Was she that far gone already? How long had she been sleeping and wandering the fade?

“Ea durlahn harellan! I na… dian telsilal Dhruelan! Re ara rahn’girem i dirthan telir isal soun’dirth!” _(Shut up traitor! And you… stop fussing priestess! It is my property and I say it only needs persuasion…)_ there was an underlying tone of impending pain in Falon'Din's voice that Enanela didn't care for and she felt every desire about returning to her body drain out of her system and she almost turned her attension elsewhere when another voice caught her attension.

"Ase shem’len! Isal ladaral, math i man na dahn'direlan!" _(She is mortal! She needs healing, food and water you imbecile!)_ The voice was melodic and female but demanded respect as it audibly rang out in a sneered response to Falon'Din's words.

Enanela didn’t know the female voice but it awoke a curiosity that drew her closer. She felt like she had heard it somewhere before. Maybe in a dream?

Keeping her focus in this limbo was hard. It was like trying to control yourself when being under the hallucinogenic influence of the Deathroot-plant. Her mind easily falling into itself and forgetting what it was she was supposed to do. Right now her mind was wandering dangerously again. Busy contemplating this new intriguing piece of information. Enanela had almost lost control for the umpteenth time when the roar of Falon’Din pierced through her short attension-span and drew her focus to the conversation again.

"Ne myas ara av’ala dhruelan!" _(You will obey, priestess!)_ The indignant tone of the Elvhen God had her mentally rolling her eyes. Of course he would demand her obedience like the cliché he was.

"Sul’anan Mythal! Tel ash banafelasem da'lin. _(I serve Mythal! Not her spoiled child.)_ The female voice spat instantaneously in a very venomous reply. Enanela couldn't help but snicker slightly to herself. Apparently she was not the only one to defy the arrogant God and the thought elicit a certain childish glee from her.

"Gyas harilla mar Venuralas!?" _(You dare oppose your God!?)_ The indignant voice of Falon'Din vibrated with audible but repressed anger.

"Gyas harilla var ga’mamae? Nuven or Mythal? _(You dare defy our all-mother!? The will of Mythal?)_ The female argued back with fire.

Oh Enanela liked this woman, whoever she was. She stood her own against the arrogant fool and would be God without backing down an inch.

A long pregnant silence spread and hovered over the conversation for a while and Enanela could almost imagine the two sizing each other up while she waited with baited breath for the continuation.

"Mythal ase haim. Din. _(Mythal is gone. Dead.)_ There was pride in Falon'Din's words and the viciousness of the statement sent shivers down Enanela’s spine.

The twisted glee made it clear, beyond any reasonable doubt, that this man was unhinged at best. But the woman didn't seem to miss a beat.

"E? Rahnen na sila eolasas ea bel… Mar solas telithalast ma. _(Oh? The things you think you know are many… Your ego blinds you.)_ She said snarkily. Falon’Din gave a harsh scoff but remained quiet while the woman continued.

"Sal or Mythal rosem. Ahnsul'or'min ash nuven re ara druast'vir. _(The spirit of Mythal endures. Thus her will is my law.)_ Those words seemed to shut the angered God up. If one discounted the wordless growl he produced.

Whoever this female was, she was quickly becoming a person of admiration for Enanela. The way she held her ground. Completely unfazed, if a tad bitter, at the arrogance of Falon’Din.

The voices grew dimmer again, the result of Enanela carelessly letting her mind wander while she was stuck in places beyond her comprehension

"Ase te'sounast…" _(She is fading…)_ the demon spirit’s monotone voice uttered, drawing Enanela's attension slightly. It seemed completely unfazed by the arguing pair.

"Ahn? Dirtha em ahn sildearas elgar." _(What? Tell me what you sense, spirit.)_ The female said with sudden deep concern.

Two things struck her as odd. Firstly the fact that the demon was in fact a spirit and she started wondering what kind of horror had befallen the being to twist it into what it now was. She remembered Mythal's words about the corruption and it not yet being permanent. Secondly she wondered why this spirit seemed to be able to sense her. Before she could get lost in her own thoughts again she filed the information away to be contemplated later and refocused her attension to the conversation.

"Te'eolas thu vegara." _(She does not know how to return.)_ The spirit said and she could hear the ancient God scoff at the notion.

She wanted to hit him and scream out her frustration. _“Excuse me for not being born a mage!!!”_ Enanela fumed in her lonesome.

"Elanas halani?" _(Can you help?)_ The female wondered, unfazed by the arrogant God.

"Vin." _(Yes.)_ Was the curt answer of the now confirmed spirit.

"Ahn ane melenal sul? Vegara ara rahngirem!" _(What are you waiting for? Fetch my slave!)_ Falon'Din sneered impatiently and Enanela felt herself reel backwards by a mile.

She most certainly didn't want to return to Falon'Din's care! But more than that she wondered if she really wanted to return to the world where she had to fix everything? Where everything hurt and so easily fell into chaos? Hadn't she done enough?

She desperately tried to retreat to the fade to contemplate her options but to her horror she found she was stuck in that dense darkness that seemed to creep closer with each shallow breath. Fear started crawling up her spine when she realized she couldn't move, she couldn’t speak and she couldn't see. There was no way to call for help.

She was stuck. 


	8. Catalyst for change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enanela meets a new facet of her newly made friend but where one question is answered a thousand more pop into existence.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, to be perfectly honest. This is not my best work U_U, but I had to let this chapter go. It was starting to grate on what little muse I had.
> 
> I have been fighting severe writersblock due to both illness (pneumonia) and also a more personal problem that has affected me greatly and been zapping my energy something fierce. It will be at least 6 months before I am fully back on track in life and even then shit may still hit the fan but at least the worst should be behind me. If I am lucky.
> 
> I am releasing this chapter even though I am not 100% (or even remotely close to) happy with it and I hope it is good enough for you wonderful readers out there.
> 
> Thank you all!

A distant sound of fluttering wings broke the escalating panic nestling in Enanela’s chest. Her survival instinct instantly latched on to it and overrode the need to break into a million fractured pieces. Was she not alone? If not, she didn't have time to submit to her fear like a blubbering fool. No matter how much she felt she needed or wanted to. Demons were no easy task even under normal circumstances and if they found her already stumbling along the border of panic they would descend on her like a pack of rabid wolves.

The budding panic subsided as she shut down her fear. She forced it down until all that was left was a dull throbbing wariness at the front of her mind. With all her nerves on edge, she listened to the approaching sound. Oddly enough she found the steady flapping sound of heavy wings calming. But that didn't mean she stopped keeping a wary eye out for any signs of danger.

The thick sticky darkness clinging around her started churning. Soon it gave way to a bright light and blurry images of green and blue.

Spinning slowly she welcomed the new landscape that morphed into existence around her. A dense and vast forest took shape right before her dazed crystal gaze. She was standing at the brink of it and behind her flowed endless green hills under a blue sky, dotted with white puffs of cloud.

The sound of flapping wings grew and she searched around to greet the sound. Out of the sun came a huge bird, swooping lower and lower towards her. It was almost low enough to touch the ground as it swooped past her legs before banking left. It lifted upwards slightly, still banking a hard left until it was once again on a straight path towards her.

The huge bird was a greyish black owl if she was not mistaken and moments before it passed her for a second time it dissolved into a puff of grey smoke.

She knew that smoke...

The bird morphed into a young man that was now staring at her with a cocked head. He wore a simple black robe with something white hinting underneath. His face bore the same markings her own did, though his were a deep purple whereas hers were a color unknown to her. The young man’s head was crowned by blond hair ending by his shoulders and his eyes where the color of the lagoons in Rivain. His thin lips and slightly beaked nose gave his face character but did not retract from his beauty in the least.

Enanela knew the smoke, but not the man that stepped out of it. And now she was gawking. She knew she was. But she was at a loss for words. She could however, probably pass her rude staring off as her being at least half insane for the moment. Due to all the weirdness that once again nestled its way into her life.

Then the man spoke and she thought her heart would stop beating from chock.

“Myas em…” _(Follow me…)_ the man bade and turned to start walking. Not even the slightest care to wait for confirmation.

It was him! She could hardly believe her ears, much less her eyes. It was the spirit!!!

Enanela was dumbfounded. She stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape and mind in complete chaos. If she took but one step she was sure she would overexert herself and fall flat on her face. So instead she watched the blond man walk away from her while her mind struggled to cope. His robes and hair swayed slightly in the imaginary winds of the fade.

As he disappeared into the dense forest, Enanela was left staring after him for a long while before she could manage to move.

Once her limbs finally decided to adhere to her command again, she stumbled her way towards the forest with a lack of grace that was most unbecoming of a rogue. To top it off she almost managed to collide with the man... spirit... or whatever he was, just as she ducked in under the first branches of the forest.

He must have been on his way back to collect her when he instead all but ran into the still shell-shocked blond rogue.

"Ah! Ir abelas." _(Ah! I'm sorry.)_ Enanela exclaimed as she steadied herself with a little help from the unfazed spirit.

He looked at her tiny hand in his own bigger but still slender one and uncharacteristically frowned. He turned her hand very subtly this way and that while Enanela held her breath. She usually did when the spirit contemplated whatever was bothering him.

Moments ticked by without either of the two making a move and she was just about to excuse herself and retract her hand back when the spirit let it go. He went back to staring at her with a cocked head.

"Ahn?" _(What?)_ Enanela asked a little flustered. She wasn't used to being inspected with such intensity and it didn’t matter that she knew he was a spirit. He was gorgeous! And thus it was nerve-racking!

“Ane ir da’annaren...” _(You are very young…)_ The spirit said matter-of-factly. She blushed slightly. How in the name of the creators did this spirit know how young she was!?

_“I da...” (and tiny…)_ The spirit continued thoughtfully. Still inspecting her every move.

“Ahn or ra?!” _(What of it?!)_ Enanela spat rather indignantly in her shocked fluster. She suddenly hoped this wasn't going to be a permanent change in the spirit. She had rather liked him before but this was a bit annoying.

“Thu ela sa’lin ir da’annaren i da ema ir sou…?” _(How can someone so small and young hold so much power…?)_ The spirit wasn't looking at her any longer she noticed. He was looking past her, speaking in hushed tones and seemed to be musing to himself.

The nature of the statements about her was usually a thing to send Enanela reeling from indignity. But now instead she became curious. What did he really mean with that? Because if she was honest, she was by all accounts small. She had been teased about it a lot before she became the outcast of her clan. And she was indeed also young – especially compared to him. But she didn’t have any power.

Ok so she was rather good with knives, poison and stealth but more than that she had nothing. Not since Solas stole the mark.

“Ahn sulevas?” _(What do you mean?)_ Her words seemed to startle the spirit. He flinched slightly before quickly turning his green gaze back to her.

”Ma tuem em gasha sal.” _(You made me whole again.)_ He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world before turning abruptly to leave again.

“Myas em…” _(Follow me…)_  he repeated over his shoulder.

This time Enanela lurched into action, albeit not entirely by conscious choice. The spirits words had once again left her stumped. She wanted to hurl every question she had at the spirit but her mouth seemed to have momentarily forgotten how to formulate words. How in the void was she responsible for the spirits change? She hadn’t done anything! Except stop fretting but that wasn’t enough to bring about a change of this magnitude was it?

With her mind reeling - tripping over itself in its desperate attempts to find answers it didn’t have to questions it couldn't wrap itself around - she followed the blond spirit deep into the forest. It took her a while to notice the change in scenery as they progressed deeper. Her mind was occupied elsewhere but when the forest grew darker and the atmosphere got heavy, almost hostile at times she couldn't help but notice. The spirit walked on as if nothing was wrong and she trusted him, but only to a point.

“Mahn ele daral?” _(Where are we going?)_ Enanela wondered warily as she once again swiped her crystal gaze around the darkened forest.

“Falon’Din's dhru’an.” _(Falon’Din’s temple.)_ The spirit asked unfazed and without slowing or even turning to face her.

Well that actually made a modicum of sense since that is where her body most likely was still held. But she was still uncomfortable about the forest. It looked and felt wrong. Like it somewhere along the lines of history had become twisted, sick and dangerous.

“Ahn re min an?” _(What is this place?)_ Enanela muttered as the hair in the back of her neck stood on end. The atmosphere was becoming haunting and suffocating. No animals could be seen nor heard and it made everything even more eerie.

“Tirashan adahlen.” _(The Tirashan forest.)_ The spirit answered without delay and Enanela once again froze.

All her life she had heard the stories about the evil haunting the Tirashan forest. Very few elves, men or dwarves ever ventured into it and even fewer ever returned from doing so. Those who did manage to return was often changed beyond recognition. Some turned evil, killing or dabbling with dangerous forms of blood magic. Some were haunted and plagued by illness. Others by nightmares or worse, madness.

The stories told of people mutilating themselves, lost in their own irrational delirium. There were even those that took their own life.

Very few managed to survive beyond a year after returning from venturing into that horrid place and even those who managed could never quite fit into society again. And here she was, led by a wayward spirit of… whatever he was, traveling ever deeper into the forest of madness.

All of a sudden she felt like this could never end well for her.

The spirit stopped as he took notice of her lack of movement as well as her distress. He cocked his head as he observed her, like he usually did, and before long he asked what was wrong. He listened patiently to the explanation of all the horrors she heard about this place. He contemplated her worries and to Enanela’s relief he seemed to make an effort to address them.

“Shemlen tel’ea tuem rosa anbanal’an banafelas relinal tor or min alas’en. Ma, thusast, nea te’derem.” _(Mortals aren’t made to endure the void’s rot bleeding out of this realm… You, however, will be untouched.)_

“Ahnsul ar nea te’derem?” _(Why will I be untouched?)_ Enanela raised a suspicious eyebrow and watched the spirit heave a sigh. It irked her a little that it seemed to be annoyed with her but she reminded herself of its tireless tries to help her and shoved her annoyance away.

The spirit contemplated again. It looked a little lost and seemed to have problems finding the words to explain his reasoning.

“Mar lam am na.” _(Your past protects you.)_ The spirit concluded and met Enanela’s suspicious crystal gaze.

“Ahn!?” Enanela exclaimed with poorly hidden annoyance.

“Mar lam am na.” The spirit repeated without flinching at her demanding gaze.

Was that supposed to make sense? He couldn’t be serious right? All that answer did was raise more questions. Questions she couldn’t even begin to voice.

The spirit must have seen her angered confusion clearly for he once again searched his mind for something more substantial to give her.

“Mar lin re En’an’sal.” _(Your blood is blessed.)_

Enanela quirked an eyebrow at the blond spirit meeting her gaze. It was severely farfetched but she supposed if one thought hard enough it made an inkling of sense. She _had_ been through a lot in her past and always, it seemed, she had miraculously made it through. She wanted to ask why. She wanted to scream, cry and beg like a child. Demand the spirit tell her what he knew and she wanted to refuse to move even an inch before he did so. But her reluctance to stay in the forest won out.

She sighed, shook her head and raked her hand over her face.

“Ele te’ha’lam dirthal o min…” _(We are not done talking about this…)_ she muttered before giving the spirit a dejected look. He nodded once as she came up next to him.

Well at least he wasn’t flat out refusing her. A good sign she thought.

“Ahn re mar melin?” _(What is your name?)_ Enanela inquired before they began walking again. Together this time.

“Las.” _(Hope)_ The spirit answered.


	9. Among friend and foe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enanela getting back to herself and meets the mysterywoman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly sorry you guys have had to wait so long for this chapter. Life has been busy and unkind for a while and it will be bumpy for a while longer still since I am currently going through a divorce. Not exactly something I had envisioned for my future since I believed in "forever after" but unfortunately life isn't always that kind.
> 
> Anyway. The new chapter is here and I will do my very best to have the next chapter out within a month.

_Enanela’s eyes finally fluttered opened after what seemed like a lifetime of trying. She didn’t know how long she had been internal cursing her body’s weakness and uncooperativeness but she was sure it must have been a good few hours at least._

_Her heavy eyes settled onto an elder female’s face. The face was kind and warm and somewhat familiar. Enanela could swear she had seen that face somewhere before but the memory of where eluded her as it played hide and seek just outside the reach of her thoughts. She pushed the annoying question aside for another time and drew a sharp breath._

_“How long was I out?” She asked. Her voice coarse and cracked enough to make her internally wince._

_"Three days" the female elf replied. Her king’s tongue was broken and laden with accent but the tone was warm and somewhat motherly._

_Enanela tried to sit up to meet the elder elf but was promptly pushed back down with a half-hearted scowl._

_“Rest. Your body has been through a serious ordeal. Mythal’enaste, we nearly lost you…”_

_“Have we met?” Enanela blurted before she could stop herself._

_She blinked a few times as her brain caught up to her. The womans charisma was as captivating as it was demanding. The very air around her seemed to crackle with power, authority and knowledge – much like it did around Mythal – but there was a warmth there that was dismantling. This caused Enanela to speak before her sense could tell her if it was prudent or not._

_The old woman only smiled at her and nodded._

\--

 

Enanela opened her still heavy-lidded, silvery eyes again. Slowly and with some effort they slid wide open to examine the cracked greyish stone ceiling of her new and shockingly comfortable room. A vague light seeped through an impossibly narrow and deep window. The light warped by the tint of the crystal covering the window, keeping the weather out. She sighed as her eyes drew patterns along the shadows playing in the crooks of the ceiling.

Three whole days...

No wonder she had shifted through so many different planes in the fade – some more pleasant than others - before Las had found and guided her back to her body. But even as he helped it had taken a long time to get back. As if her own consciousness fought the very thought of returning to the plane of mortals.

For three days Enanela had apparently hovered between life and death, if Sael  was to be believed. And believe the old woman she did. In earnest since the woman she woke up to, Sael, turned out to be the high priestess of Mythal. The very same old, wobbly elvhen woman who had grumpily led Enanela and her friends past the worst pockets of fighting when Corypheus invaded the temple of Mythal with his army of red templars.

Now Sael seemed less old and wobbly but grumpy was still the womans middle name if you didn’t behave. Enanela found that out the hard way. When she asked about the time in the temple the priestess replied that a thousand years of sleep interrupted by invading hostile forces would leave anyone in a bad mood and somewhat unsteady on ones feet.

Enanela jumped a little as someone stirred beside her, ripping her out of her pondering. The wariness turned into a warm smile as she recognized the familiar energy coming towards her. The spirit, Las, never seemed to stray from her side for long since he helped her stay alive in that small void forsaken hole she had been stuck in. Since they got back from the fade he rarely left her side for more than an hour.

The spirit had reverted back to the appearance of a fear demon when they got back to the world of the living. Las didn’t seem to mind but Enanela felt like she had failed him. She was supposed to have healed him. Made him whole again. But no matter how she tried she couldn’t make Las appear as his elvhen self. She took an ounce of solace in the fact that Las at least retained more of himself in ways of a personality – much to his master’s dismay.

The spirit was currently hovering somewhere to her right. Still vigilantly making sure she didn't disappear into the world of the fade again. Even if Sael hadn’t put him up to it he would surely still have kept his eyes on her. Just to make sure they didn’t lose her. Both Las and Sael insisted she was of great importance. Even Mythal had said the same. Everyone she had met since being tossed into this surreal dimension, except Falon’Din, seemed void bent on her being the one to solve the worlds’ imminent catastrophe. But Enanela couldn't fathom what they saw.

"Still protecting me from myself?" Enanela said and winced at the sound of her own voice. Cracked and gravely. It still sounded almost as horrible as when she woke up, like she hadn't used it in forever.

Las appeared at her side but said nothing. He had been an unlikely companion since she arrived in this place and now he had morphed into a trusted friend. In the fade he proved to be her rock while they progressed through the horrid haunted forest and degraded temple. He stayed at her side even as her own consciousness tried to stop her from returning.

She smiled with fondness at the memory of him taking her by the hand to lead and reassure her. Now she took his boney clawed hand and squeezed gently to reassure him. Las looked to their hands, tilting his head a little and she wondered if he too was remembering the fade.

"I should be reassuring you. Not the other way around." He said and looked up when Enanela giggled softly.

"Yes well, I am not the one haunting the room like a restless shade."

The spirit contemplated a while before giving a curt nod. They both let a companionable silence wrap around them like a silken blanket. It was so easy to just exist in the same space as Las and she felt her thoughts drift a little. Pondering once again the mysteries she was supposed to solve.

The sound of the door creaking had them turn in tandem.

Raven black hair and dark blue eyes peaked around the door and Enanela could swear she saw something other than arrogance in those dark pools of blue before Falon'Din schooled his features into the usual scowl as he noticed his audience. Slamming the door opened he stalked over to the bed, put a mug of something down forcefully at her side – making the brew slosh over the edges and leave stains on the small bedside table. Then he stalked back out, slamming the door behind him with enough force to shake the entire room in its foundations.

Enanela looked to Las in obvious confusion. He was staring after his Master with twitching tentacles.

Was he agitated? She wasn't sure but Las seemed to always get twitchy around his master since they got back from the fade and she couldn’t help but wondered why.

Sometimes she secretly wished Las had the same quirk Cole had. Carelessly reading people’s minds out loud. Because she would love to know what was going on in that twisted mind of Falon’Din’s, especially when something as weird as this happened. Las however, sadly never gave any indication to give away private information. In fact, he didn’t even show signs of reading other’s minds unless it was highly necessary.

She let go of his hand and turned her attension over to the mug Falon'Din had brought. It seemed to be a thick broth of some type. The smell that wafted towards her was heavenly to her starved body and Enanela could hear as well as feel her stomach growling agitatedly in response to the delicious smell. Carefully she reached for the mug, bringing it unsteadily to her lips before coming to an abrupt halt in her movements. Her lips clamping together in a thin line as her brow crinkled in thought.

"Is this... ehm... is it safe to eat?" She asked the spirit.

She patiently watched him stare after his Master for a while before he turned to face Enanela again.

"Yes." he said as soon as his attention was once again locked on her.

Enanela raised an eyebrow and looked incredulously at the mug. Falon’Din had brought her something to eat? Maybe the world was ending sooner than she thought if that arrogant narcissist deigned to act humane. Shrugging at the enigma proving to be the ancient God she took a sip of the scorching broth and sighed in satisfaction.

\--

 

How dare he!

That overgrown heap of feathers had no right to get familiar with his property. He was going to flay that spirit alive!

That young shemlen was his! And his alone!

Falon’Din raged in his quarters.

Not only did he have to put up with that incessant priestess who didn't show him even an ounce of the respect he was due. His own bound spirit disobeyed him and took freedoms it was not due!

The priestess walked all over every last the nerve Falon’Din had as she tried to put him in his place. Just like his mother had when that wench was still alive. And the fact that the priestess had the power to actually humiliate him was frustrating beyond words. If only his powers hadn't been stolen from him, then he'd show that upstart who she was dealing with.

Now he had actually been influenced enough by that incessant womans constant yammering about love and courting that he had lowered himself to the place where he willingly brought the lowly shemlen peasant something to sustain her mortal body. He was even trying to suppress his nature to demand obedience, even though it was his right by birth. But what did he get for his efforts? Nothing! Instead he found his spirit holding the shemlen’s hand calmly and as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if that feathery critter was allowed to!

Falon'Din fumed as he continued his pacing around the room. Contemplating all the things he was going to do to that annoying spirit that was no longer adhering to his commands.

"Jealousy is unbecoming of you..." Sael’s gloating words cut into him like a blade, making him flinch.

Falon’Din scowled at the old woman, sputtering hurried indignant excuses to his defense but was forced to watch the old priestess smirk in response. Her eyes told him she didn’t believe him for a second and the way she carried herself told him she found the entire situation quite amusing. Damn that old crone. He shut his mouth with an audible snap when he realized anything he said at the moment would only put him in an even more awkward situation. He settled for glaring lightning infused fireballs at the still smirking priestess instead.

As he stewed in his own indignant anger his thoughts came up with a sinister plan. He had tried to play nice as the priestess wished. Tried the whole ‘be a gentleman and get the girl’-thing. It hadn’t worked. At all.

Falon’Din sneered out a growling scoff as the memory of Las and Enanela holding hands so peacefully made it to the forefront of his thoughts.

It was time he showed that fragile shemlen who she belonged to…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Sael = First


	10. Cracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falon'Din makes his "move" but miscalculates, yet again, the stubbornness and strong will of a certain shemlen elf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGERWARNINGS!!!! 
> 
> There are hints at sexual assault embedded in this chapter so take care when reading. Nothing more than hints though!!!

Enanela found herself brutally yanked out of her comfortable bed by the collar of her tunic without warning. Her one hand instinctually reaching to grasp at her attacker's forearm as she struggled to shake the sleep from her senses. The smell of herbs and honey attacked her nose as she felt herself leaving the warmth of her bed completely. Her bare legs scraping against the soft fabric of her assailant's clothing and feet barely touching the chilly stone floor as she dangled in his grip.

"Emma..." _(Mine...)_ the word was barely audible over the growling undertones of Falon’Din’s voice but it was enough to send her kicking into action before her brain had a chance to process what was really happening.

She made herself as heavy as she possibly could as she sought the floor with her feet. Then stomping of the ground she jumped upwards, curling in on herself to gain momentum enough to pull her assailant with her on the way back down. As soon as she felt the floor under the soles of her bare feet she executed a wide kick to swipe the attacker’s legs from under him. Grabbing hold of the fabric of his robes she send him flipping over onto his back. She followed through the movement, rolling over him as she disentangled her grip on his robe and then up into a low defensive crouch.

Once on her feet again her brain finally caught up with reality and she sneered viciously at the blackhaired elf scrambling to recollect himself off of the floor where he was currently ungracefully sprawled.

She inched away from him while she listened to him spit curses so vile they would have made even Varric blush like a youngster with a crush. As the elf managed to pick himself of off the ground Enanela continued to slowly inch backwards and away from him. Never letting her eyes leave his form. She had no idea what had triggered this sudden extreme hostility but she didn’t care for that venomous spark in Falon’Din’s otherwise beautiful blue eyes. Every muscle in her body was strung almost to their breaking point as she followed the Elvhen’s every movement.

That vicious smile she hated with every fiber in her body found its way back onto his face. He looked down on her in her crouched position as one would eye an insect.

Not wanting to know all the twisted horrors that smile of his entailed, Enanela spun on her heel and bolted for the door.

She was almost there. Almost had her fingers around the handle when something slammed into her with the force of a small army. She saw stars as it sent her sprawling into the stone wall to her right and all the air vacated her lungs like soldiers on leave. She hadn’t heard him move but by the twisted pride dripping off of every note in his dark chuckle she was pretty sure he had lunged some kind of spell at her.

She felt his hand encircle her wrist, dragging it up to pin it above her head. She felt him press against her as words, cruel and cold as ice snaked their way out of his throat and into her ears before landing uncomfortably in the depth of her brain.

“Ane emma da’isenatha… Melana dirthala ahn sulev…” _(You are mine little dragon… Time to learn what that means…)_

She tried to buck him away. She tried to head-butt him and tried to squirm her hand lose to push him away. But her limbs seemed frozen in place. No matter how hard she struggled her body refused to reply to her desperate pleas.

_"No... no, no, no... not like this..."_ Her mind reeled, begged and pleaded. Every single prayer she could remember spun around her brain like agitated wasps, but no actual words made it past her lips.

The dark chuckle emanating from her assailant sent chills down her spine and she had to force the bile burning its way up her esophagus back down with sheer will. She steeled herself against the feel of invading hands drifting up and down her hips and sides. Groping without her consent.

Screaming would do her no good, of that she was sure. He would probably enjoy it and no one in their right mind would bother helping her. Who in their right mind would defy a God after all? But she couldn't panic, she couldn't let her agony cloud her judgement. If she did, she would miss any opportunity for escape.

She slammed up a wall to ward off the sickening realization that she only wore a loincloth and a two sizes too large tunic. Then schooling her features she shoved that mind-numbing fear down into a box and closed the lid. Tossing said box into the darkest corner of her soul she shut the door on it to keep it locked safely away. She wouldn’t allow this twisted shadow of a man to have the pleasure of her fear.

Her crystal gaze drained of anything except contempt, defiance and anger as it met Falon’Din’s dark blue one. He only smirked. A wicked, arrogant quirk of his lips that despite her best effort turned her stomach into painful knots.

He ducked his head and dragged the tip of his nose from her clavicle to her ear as he scented her. He nipped at the sensitive flesh right under her ear and Enanela endured the slight shudder and the goosebumps that arose against her will. She could visably see the satisfaction coming off the elven man pinning her roughly against the cold wall. But all she could feel was the retched bile still rising in her throat at the thought of what was to come.

He sought her lips. Leaving a small trail of wetness behind as his tongue tasted its way from just beneath her ear to the tip of her chin. But she stubbornly turned away before he could reach his goal.

Falon’Din scoffed in annoyance, grabbing her face hard with one of his slender hands to force her to face him.

“Ahnsul panas?  _(Why do you fight?)_

Enanela scowled at him with force enough to choke a small druffalo but said nothing.

"Re pana na julaima...” _(It is a fight you will lose…)_ Falon’Din continued in a dark purr. That vicious spark of danger again sparkling in his eyes.

“Ma i’tel’myathash… Su an’banal i’ma!” _(You have no honor… To the void with you!)_ She growled between clenched teeth.

Falon’Din’s smirk disappeared in an instant. Replaced with cold hard fury radiating from every centimeter of his being but Enanela met his vicious glare with her own fiery one.

Ice versus fire, locked in a seemingly unending battle of fierce wills.

“Jute’danan!” _(I will not break!)_ She sneered and watched as the words sunk in.

The grip on her cheeks hardened and she saw his eyes dart to her mouth for a brief moment before his lips crashed onto hers with all the brutality she had anticipated. She tried to pull away but he forced her lips to mold against his. The kiss igniting more than her indignant anger and humiliation. She bit his lip in hopes of him recoiling at the pain. But it only served to make him lean heavier into her with a groan and a desperation that rhymed poorly with the cruelty he displayed.

She could feel his desire batter her senses trying to overwhelm her. She could sense a glimmer of something else, something her furious mind instantly flinched away from. She didn't want to acknowledge the small inconsistencies in Falon’Din’s behavior. She couldn't afford to peer behind that door of possibilities. No. Right now she wanted nothing more than to kick him, punch him and tear his eyes out. At this very moment she hated him with the strength of a thousand volcanos.

As Falon’Din forced the kiss deeper with a passion that threatened to undo the entire plane with its ferocity, she saw her opportunity for escape and tried biting his tongue off in retaliation.

Falon’Din howled in pain, blood seeping through his fingers as he clasped them over his injured mouth. He let Enanela go, rearing back enough to stumble against the small wooden table and chairs in the middle of the room. He scrambled to find purchase against the table and inspect his manhandled bodypart.

“Jute’danan!” (I will not break!) She barked at him. Glaring hard at the shellshocked God as she wiped his blood of her chin and spat out the rest on the floor.

A short but heavy air of silence spread around them. Ice versus fire before Enanela turned and bolted for the door.

Wrenching it up she took off down the veil fire illuminated hallway like she was being chased by a pack of rabid wolves. As she ran she sent up a few silent prayers that she would find Sael or Las before she got captured or lost. Behind her she heard the sound of faint angered cursing but she didn’t look back.

\--

 

He came around another bend, a familiar one. Trudging forward without really thinking he frowned at the wall that seemed so familiar. A moment later he stopped and scowled into a tiny room before him. It needed cleaning. Something dark was staining the floors and the straw in the corner needed changing.

He looked away. Still frowning. What was he doing again? He was sure there was something he was supposed to be doing. Something important. It gnawed on his insides as he continued wandering the fade. He felt like a part of him was missing and it upset him but he couldn't figure out why.

He came around that familiar bend again. How many times had he ended up at this bend by now? That familiar tiny room that tugged at his insides soon followed. Why did that room upset him so much? And why did he always end up there despite his efforts to go elsewhere?

He didn't possess the answers and it irked him more than he thought it should. An irate thought hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. How long had he been wandering the fade? He wasn't supposed to be there too long lest he forget himself. But now it seemed he had forgotten time. He must have and now he was paying the price judging from the lack of memories and trouble focusing.

Instinct told him he was not allowed forget his mission, it was too vital for reasons he no longer could recall. He felt sure his assignment was of deadly importance but to his dismay the details danced and mocked him from just outside his reach.

Fear gripped him. He could feel the sticky tendrils begin snaking their way into every inch of his being. Razor-sharp claws of ice started ripping at the seams of his self and blackness stirred in the outside of his vision, threatening to overwhelm him.

_"No... not again..."_ An errant thought skittered across his mind looking for purchase.

Again? He felt inwards.

Yes… This had happened before. He knew the truth of it but no details remained. Just a horrifying dread of certainty in the pit of his stomach. He felt the fear reach and start to tweak and twist his insides. The sickening tendrils of dread penetrating into the very core of his being as the cold claws raked through him and made him want to scream out his agony.

"We are not done talking about this..." A flicker of words once again skittered along his neurons. Then followed a faint, hazy picture of brilliant crystal eyes.

A dream? No... A memory.

He held onto the faint memory for all that he was worth. Those sharp silver-white eyes felt like home and the voice, even irritated it was balm to his frayed nerves.

He calmed. His breathing slowed and the tendrils of tarry fear receded.

Yes... a memory. He could still fight. For her...

She wouldn't let him break again. He only had to hold on to the last slivers of his being.

Her...?

Who was she? And why did she instill hope where he felt certain only dread should remain?

He shook his head. He needed to focus to keep the fear at bay. To keep himself intact.

She, whoever she was. The light in the darkness that he had slept in for ages beyond counting. She would come.

He knew his light would return. It had to. He only needed to hold on until it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Yes, I know. Falon'Din really is a jackoff. I was trying to take him in the right direction but he just flat out refused and ran with his own course of actions instead... Yea... Look how well that turned out you idiot...
> 
> I'll try to reign him in and back on track for the next chapter xD


	11. Oath of urgency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What did Enanela get herself into? Has she dug her own grave? An by golly! Did she actually manage to get Falon'Din to shut up?! 
> 
> *gasp*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!!!!
> 
> No I am not dead, neither is this story. 
> 
> I had a tough time managing my move into my own place, my divorce, caring for an emotional trainwreck of a child and working. Writing didn't really fit into the schedule...
> 
> But I managed to get this chapter done now when things have settled a little.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy!

Enanela's entire frame practically vibrated from repressing her anger to the point where she didn’t launch herself at the arrogant fool before her. The anxiety, disgust and fear she felt when Falon’Din had her pinned against the wall in her room this morning, was suddenly forgotten. The relief she felt when she stumbled aching and exhausted into the priestess in what could only be described as a kitchen, had drained from her system.

Even the fact that she was still only covered by her smallclothes and an oversized tunic in some sort of flimsy material was forgotten.

“You did WHAT!!?” Enanela lapsed into king’s tongue from the horror she felt skittering up her spine like tiny spiders.

Every anxiety that had plucked on her nerves since this morning was now overshadowed by the behemoth that was her fury. Thought of Las being locked away in the fade, alone, made her want to explode. The only thing currently stopping Enanela from outright pouncing the errant God and beating him into a soggy pile of bloody pulp, was Sael’s presence.

The priestess had put Falon’Din's temper to shame with the cold that was her fury over how he treated Enanela. She had paralyzed him as he had done Enanela and then proceeded to give him a tongue lashing containing so many vile curses it had left Enanela slack jawed and stumped. When Sael finally reigned in her temper and released the stewing God of death she inquired about the whereabouts of Las. Whom by all intents and purposes was supposed to be keeping an eye on the still mending young elf.

Falon’Din glared for a while. Refusing to speak. And when he finally lost the battle of wills and answered the question, it was defiant, indignant and with a slightly morbid sort of satisfaction rolling off him at the sight of their horror.

“What did that poor spirit do to deserve his Masters wrath I wonder?” Sael’s voice cut through the layers of thick hostility hanging in the air of Falon’Din’s dim chambers. Her king’s tongue laden with heavy accent but the dangerously flaring annoyance was clear as day even so.

Falon’Din only growled sourly in response. His tongue still sore from his earlier tryst with Enanela that didn’t quite end the way he had hoped or even like he intended. The bruises on his brutalized limb made talking painful and awkward even with the amount of healing he had done.  But even so, his dark-blue eyes still brimmed with that cold, arrogant anger that betrayed his vain belief of his own superiority.

“Enough! _Where_ is he?!” Enanela barked at the cornered God.

She was momentarily blind to anything else than finding her friend. She hated when people got hurt because of her. Hated when someone innocent got hurt period! And now Las was only Gods knew where, enduring whatever cruelty Falon’Din had seen fit to bestow upon him. She wouldn't let this stand. Couldn't even if it killed her.

Falon’Din scoffed in clear annoyance. Scowling and crossing his arms he looked at her, like a petulant child refusing to eat its vegetables at the dinner table. She took a few shaky steps towards him, her one fist clenched so hard by her side that her knuckled whitened.

He was going to tell her! If it was the last thing she did, she was going to _make_ him tell her where to find Las.

Sael put a hand on the young elfs shoulder efficiently stopping Enanela in her tracks though her glare never left Falon’Din’s face. The elderly woman sighed and opened her mouth to speak when the air around Falon’Din shifted. A satisfied smirk spread over the God’s features, and Sael warily seemed to swallow her intended words.

Enanela shuddered at the sight. Knowing full well what horrors could lie behind that particular smile. He was all too happy with himself. Probably thought he had won some kind of sick contest since his eyes gleamed with a victorious shine that felt about as comfortable as a frilly gown in a drunken bar fight.

“I _could_ tell you…” Falon’Din said, practically purring delight. His voice deceptively soft and dripping with honeyed sweetness that was more than a little unsettling to Enanela’s already agitated nerves.

“…for a price…” Sael filled in. Her voice harsh with veiled accusations as she raised a disapproving eyebrow at the gloating man in front of her.

“Name it!” Enanela sneered without giving the other woman a chance to stop her.

Time was ticking away all too quickly and with it the chances of finding Las unharmed. If she had understood the principle of spirits and the fade in the right way, every second they tarried would hack away at her friend until he was nothing more than an empty husk of his former self. She would not allow this to happen. Not if she could help it.

Falon’Din looked way too pleased with himself as he took his time sauntering over to stand almost nose to nose with her.

“Give yourself to me…” he overly stressed every word and his sadistic grin grew wider at the sight of Enanela's automatic flinch.

A shocked, disapproving gasp was heard from Sael. But Enanela’s eyes never strayed from the dark blue gaze of Falon’Din. 

“Done!" She sneered with narrowing eyes, straight into Falon'Din's face.

"Now tell me where Las is or so help me I will drag your ass into the void myself!” Enanela continued in a threatening hiss, ignoring every spluttered protest from the ignored priestess.

Falon’Din’s smile broadened to the point where it showed off a row of brilliant white teeth. The deep, menacing chuckle was that of a man who thought he had won. Enanela struggled to shrug off the urge to retch, flee or lash out. She would die before giving into the demands of the seemingly deranged God, but she would have to jump that hurdle later. Right now she needed to find Las!

\--

 

It didn’t take them long to find the spirit once they managed to enter the fade-pocket Falon’Din had banished him to. He offered a pitiful sight, balled up on the tiny patch of straw in the corner of the room Enanela used to inhabit before Sael managed to move her somewhere more comfortable. His form shifting, twisting and ever changing. Like it couldn’t decide what shape to take but she recognized him all the same. She crouched down beside her friend and put a slightly shaking hand on what was probably his shoulder. Or arm depending on what form he was in.

“Las!” the word struggling its way out of Enanela’s tight throat were barely a whisper. But it was seemingly enough to reach him.

His form stopped churning as he slowly started to unfold himself, seeking her gaze. She could see his lovely green-blue eyes through the image of a fear demon and she could feel his hand seeking hers even though it appeared as the black smoke of the void he used to portray. She saw his confusion. Felt the desperation rolling off him that was almost palpable. And in a fit of empathic sadness for the pain he was going through, she pulled him into a small but warm embrace.

The spirit stiffened for a moment, unsure of how to respond. But soon enough he was melting into her embrace, slumping heavily against her. His hands balling into fists in her tunic and his face burrowing in the crook of her neck as he returned the embrace with the fervor of a starving man.

“Ane eth, lethal’lin.”Enanela whispered. Relief washing over her like a cold bath on a hot summer’s day. He seemed to have managed to hold onto some of himself. Enough to recognize her and that fact soothed her aching soul like a warming balm.

“Ma enem… Ara vun... Ar eolasem na vyn.” He held onto her like a drowning man held onto debris during a shipwreck. Not knowing what else to do she just held him, drawing soothing circles on his back until the desperate tension released his body and his breathing seemed to have calmed.

From the edge of the fade-pocket she could sense Falon’Din stewing in an anger she didn’t understand. Sael was alternating between scowling at him and tutting her tongue while shaking her head in obvious exasperation. This in turn seemed to irk the God even more leaving him bristling on the border of explosion before long. Enanela didn’t want to care. She had her hands full of five point nine feet of shivering spirit that clung to her like his life depended on it. Unfortunately she soon realized that she had to get everyone moving lest a war break lose between the priestess and the arrogant fool who called himself a God.

Enanela gently pushed the still shivering spirit to arms-length so she could look him in the eyes. She gave him an apologetic smile as she tugged him with her as she stood. Happy to see him following even if he still clutched her tunic with enough force to have the fabric almost splitting in protest. She gave him her hand to squeeze instead as she turned to march over to the bickering old Elvhen.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you two were married…" she quipped grumpily, answering the two glares directed her way with one of her own before continuing.

"Stop antagonizing each other and get us back to the castle!”

\--

 

 

After leaving the fade with a rattled Las in a tow, Sael had taken the first opportunity to drag Enanela out of earshot of both men.

"Are you insane girl?! I didn't come here to watch you make yourself his willing slave!!" She glowered at Enanela with barely contained anger bristling just underneath the cracking facade of control.

Enanela crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back on her right leg to stared back. Her entire being radiated irritation as she met the old Elvhen's stern grey gaze.

"Don’t you start your sassing with me youngling! You know as well as I that Falon’Din will waste **_no_** time claiming his part of the deal!"

Enanela let the old elf rant herself tired while she pondered her problem. She hadn't thought it through. That much she could admit. But there hadn't been time to think, only to act. Her forehead creased as she thought about her dilemma. Chewing on her lower lip she replayed the scene in her head until her lips quirked in a ghost of a smile.

"I cannot protect you from this. You made a deal. Foolish girl... You are bound to honor it..." Sael stopped her pacing. Her shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh as she turned to face Enanela with a sorrowful face.

"I made a deal yes.” she admitted absentmindedly.

“But no one stated WHEN it was due..." A bastard between a giggle and a sneer escaped Enanela's throat at the end of her sentence. Her smile grew a little as the light returned to Sael's eyes and the sudden unspoken mirth danced around them for a moment before the priestess broke the silence.

"I knew there was something I liked about you. Oh, but don’t you have your work cut out for you, dear girl. He will not accept defeat so easily."

\--

 

"Get out..." Falon'Din's tone didn't leave any room for argument but to his utter annoyance both Las and Sael turned their questioning gazes towards Enanela who sat huddled up in her bed again.

She smiled, shaking her head with slow resolution before looking up to meet her clear crystal gaze with Falon'Din's.

"You are mine! We made a deal!" Falon'Din all but snarled at her. Pointing a slender, well-kept finger her way.

Enanela snorted and tried to vanquish the crooked smile creeping up on her features.

"I am well aware of the deal we made." She said. Calmly clasping her hands in her lap were she sat under the covers of her bed.

Falon'Din raised an agitated eyebrow at that. The air around him vibrating with silent demand for answers.

"But as I remember it… there was never any specific mention as to **_when_** said deal was due payment..." Enanela paused knowing full well the man would soon erupt into a string of profanities and objections ending with silly demands he had no power to enforce. Sael would back her up and he could not make her do anything until she was ready.

Falon'Din looked with bewilderment at her, opening his mouth to say something but seeming to think better of it as he snapped it shut. His hands curling and uncurling into fists at his side while he stood glaring and stewing in his own indignant fury.

"You will get your end of the deal. **_When_** I say so..." Enanela smirked at the whirlwind of angered emotions flipping over the God's features. Her smirk grew in size when she saw realization set into Falon'Din. And her grin was wide enough to give her an air of insane when she realized he stayed silent even though his hands balled into whitened fists at his sides. His eyes spewing daggers the size of a greatsword while his jaw set into a hard line.

"You **_will_** regret this. I will make you pay until your quick years are utterly spent!" Falon'Din's voice was low, vibrating with enough menace to send an entire hive of spiders skittering along under her skin. Spiders that raised unwelcome goosebumps eating away at her resolve in their wake.

As he spun on his heel he motioned for Las to follow and stopped short when met with silent disobedience.

Las held tight onto Enanela's hand. Like it was his only anchor.

"Oh, and I think I finally figured out why Las can disobey you in my presence." A new smile crept up her features as three sets of curious eyes locked onto her.

She had thought about this for a while now. All the clues she'd been tossed over the years or stumbled upon. They all seemed to fit into the most absurd puzzle. But now it made a strange kind of sense. The only thing left was confirming her suspicions.

"You were stripped of your powers. Yes?" She inquired at Falon'Din, tapping her indexfinger on her chin.

He gave a curt nod with distained curiosity painted over his features.

"And all this power was locked away? In say... an orb?" She was looking from one face to another while awaiting confirmation.

Falon'Din's face contorted into pure rage once more.

"That power is mine! You have no claim!"

Understanding dawned on Sael's features. Las seemed pleased and Enanela herself met the rage in Falon'Din head on.

"On the contrary." She smiled with sugarcoated venom in her voice.

"It might have started as an accident but it was made permanent. Removable only by my death or by way of removing my arm as Fen'Harel did." Enanela winced a little when reminding herself of that faithful day she would rather remain buried. Shaking herself mentally she continued.

"And since that power is imprinted upon me, it is as much mine as yours… He's staying with me. Period!"

She pinned Falon’Din with her crystal gaze, daring him to oppose her and fly off into a fit of rage like he usually did. To her surprise he remained dangerously still and quiet. It didn’t sit right with her. She cocked an eyebrow at him, trying to coax a reaction out of him but to no avail. He spun on his heal with a barely audible growl and disappeared out through the door.

Sael and Las both let their breaths out in loud huffs as the tension almost immediately dissolved.

"You have nerves of solid steel. You do the people proud." Sael’s mouth drew into a huge grin that mirrored the mirth sparkling in her eyes as she took in the young elf sitting rigid and on edge in bed still.

With a huge sigh Enanela let go of that nagging suspicion in the back of her mind. Knowing she could do nothing to soothe it she tucked it away until a later date before crumbling into a heap. Head falling into her waiting hands in her lap. Every bone and muscle in her body seeming to give up simultaneously and left her in a shaking pile.

"To be honest... I have no idea how I am going to pull this off. Mythal'enaste... He hates me with a passion. Determined to reduce me to nothing more than a heap of subservient flesh to use for his own pleasure at will..." the sigh that bullied its way out of her throat seemed to emanate from the very depths of her soul, laden with wariness and weight.

Sael patted her hand motherly while Las just idly hovered by her side like he usually did. Some might have thought him imposing or even overbearing but Enanela just embraced his lingering. She was fully comfortable around his energy.

Looking over to Sael she continued.

"I have no idea what Mythal want me to do? I am just a shemlen. I might still have some pull with the inquisition but fact remains I am still mortal. My body can't house the kind of power trapped in that orb. Hence the lack of an arm..." Enanela absentmindedly grabbed her stump of a left arm with sadness heavy in her eyes.

"It will all become clear in the days to come, lethal’lin. First off, we need to find this power you speak of and I am betting you have an inkling as to where we need to go to start the search."

Enanela looked bewildered at the elderly Elvhen. Had she lost her mind? She wouldn't know where to start if the clues hit her in the head! She couldn't even pinpoint where they were let alone where to begin searching for the lost powers of Falon’Din!

She opened her mouth to protest but Las voice beat her to the punch.

"You know more than you think. Its second nature, instinct. You will know. Let yourself rest, heal and everything will become clear. Have faith."

"The spirit speaks true. Rest. I will fetch a meal and tomorrow we can start looking at forming a plan." Sael patted Enanela’s knee through the cover and left for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Mythal'enaste - By the grace of Mythal (roughly)  
> Ane eth, lethal’lin - You are safe, friend  
> Ma enem… Ara vun... Ar eolasem na vyn - You came… My light… I knew you would.


End file.
